


More than Enough

by orphan_account



Category: No. 6 (Anime & Manga), No. 6 - All Media Types, No. 6 - Asano Atsuko
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, College AU, Established Nezushi, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Nezushi - Freeform, POV Multiple, Shmoop, Slice of Life, so much fluff the characters are OOC
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-05
Updated: 2016-01-05
Packaged: 2018-05-11 20:45:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 53,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5641288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The lives of Nezumi, Shion, and their friends in college.</p><p>Or, just another NezuShi College AU with too much fluff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	More than Enough

**Author's Note:**

> **Warnings:** OOCness, English is not my first language. Also, **PROCEED WITH CAUTION**. Due to the limited number of No. 6 characters, I had to create OCs to fill in the story. But I thought that creating waaaaaaaaaaay too many OCs will make not only me but the reader uncomfortable (at least that's what I think), so instead of making OCs, I used characters from other series. However, I am _not_ treating this as a crossover. I just used other existing characters instead of creating my own. (But I made one OC though. Just one.) I suppose that this is technically a crossover, but I'm not treating and labelling this as such. Thus, I'm not going to tag all those characters from other series that I used. However, here are the shows that I borrowed characters from, and the ships that came along with them: _Free!_ (MakoHaru, SouRin, Reigisa), _Kuroshitsuji_ (SebaCiel), _Detective Conan_ (ShinRan, HeiKazu), _K Project_ (Kuroshiro), _Supernatural_ (DeanCas), mentions of three _Prince of Tennis_ characters, and references to other ships/shows. If you're not familiar with any of these shows/ships/characters, then kindly treat them as OCs instead. If you do not like any of the shows/ships/characters mentioned, then I suggest that you do not read this. And please take note that this list is just an overview, and not a complete list of all the characters that I borrowed.
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** No copyright infringement intended.
> 
>  **A/N:** Massive thanks to [kenmasan](http://kenmasan.tumblr.com/) for beta-ing this work and for making this thing readable. I ALWAYS screw my tenses up. One moment I'm writing in past tense, and the next, I'm writing in present tense. Actually, all my works have inconsistent tenses xD And I also always run into troubles with my prepositions. Thank you soooooo much for your patience in editing this. All remaining mistakes are mine. Also, I used they/them pronouns to refer to Inukashi (and another character that I borrowed from another series).
> 
> Also, there are 11 annotations here. Each annotation is marked by a superscripted '[1],' '[2],' and so on until [11]. Click each annotation to take you to the note/explanation at the end. To go back to where you're reading before you clicked the annotation, just press CTRL+F then type the number (i.e., [1], [2], etc.).

**I.**

_April 21, 2015, 9:30 AM_

Kou was anxious. She enrolled late because she was supposed to join her older brother in Australia, but something went wrong in the processing of her documents. Because of this, she could not enroll in an Australian uni on time, which meant that she had to stay back in Japan until her documents got sorted out. Still, there was no definite time as to when her papers could be finished processing, so she enroled in a uni in Tokyo, much to her brother’s chagrin because _dammit Gou you’re supposed to be here with us! What about the room we prepared for you, huh?!_

However, Kou managed to soothe her brother’s nerves. Maybe next year, her documents would all be fine and she could join him in Australia. She’s a little worried for him, but he’s with Sousuke-kun, and she knows that Onii-chan and Sousuke-kun will take care of each other.

But right now, she has a bigger fish to fry, namely, Nezumi-kun. He wasn’t as muscular as her brother and his friends, and he doesn’t even meet Kou’s criteria for drool-worthy muscles, but Nezumi’s physique and face and _gosh darn I’ve never met an androgynous person before and he’s so beautifuuuuuuuuul_. Needless to say, Kou was captivated, and her little crush grew into a full-blown infatuation in the span of fifteen minutes.

Yes, fifteen minutes, because she’s a late enrollee and this is her first time attending this class. _Maybe the reason why I couldn’t go to Australia is because of him_ , she thought.

She sat at the back of the class because a.) she’s a late enrollee and she doesn’t want to sit in front; and b.) she’s ten minutes late to class. Blame her brother for Skyping with her before she went to the lecture.

She snuck in and breathed a sigh of relief once she was seated without the professor noticing. She took her notebook out and glanced around the classroom to get a general idea of what was going on, and when she looked to her left, there he was; a face both feminine and masculine capable trumping Helen of Troy because _a face as good as that? Sorry Helen, but it would launch a million ships_. He wore a raglan shirt with ¾ sleeves that clung to his body in all the right places, revealing a not-so muscular but lithe frame beneath. On his desk were an open notebook and a pen, and a stolen glance told Kou that he hasn’t written anything on it. A black leather jacket and black scarf— _Is that really a scarf? Because it looks like an asymmetrical piece of black fabric that he just uses to cover his neck. Or maybe it’s a cloak? It looks big enough to be a cloak_ —were thrown over the back of his chair. He also had his chin on his hand and he looked absolutely bored.

Not that she can blame him. Classic literature class has a great potential to be absolutely dull and monotonous, but not if you’re interested in the subject. Kou is _mildly_ interested in the subject, seeing that she’s required to take this class because she’s a journalism major (“ _Look at all the muscular athletes that I can interview and take photos of!_ ”) and learning languages and literature is a part of every journalism major’s life.

But Nezumi looks totally indifferent, with fingers drumming elegantly on the table (“ _How is that even possible?_ ”) and the occasional yawns.

_Oooh, we have a rebel here._

A female in front of him leaned back and whispered, “Nezumi-kun, would you mind studying the next reading with me this afternoon? I’m barely understanding the lessons and I might fail.”

 _Ah, so that’s what his name is,_ Kou thinks, and _the woman is clearly flirting,_ and _I wish I have even a modicum of her boldness_.

“You’d understand the lessons if you weren’t so busy texting,” Nezumi drawled. He twiddled with his pen and looked back to the professor in front of them.

The girl bristled, and she didn’t disturb him for the rest of the class.

 _A rude rebel with the face of an angel,_ Kou thought, and she wishes to the heavens that such a contrast didn’t exist.

Still, Nezumi’s rudeness didn’t deter her from furtively staring at him for the entire class. And so did a majority of the females—and even males—in close proximity to him.

She had a _lot_ of competition.

 **xxx---xxx---xxx---xxx**  

_April 22, 2015, 1:00 PM_

Kou was surprised to see her crush from yesterday take a seat in front of her. Nezumi, the guy from her classical lit class, was in the same semantics class as her. He has a name that literally translates to rodent, but she elected to ignore it because _‘Nezumi’ might be a code name_ and _his mysteriousness adds to his appeal_ and _it’s so much cooler that way_.

He had the same attitude from yesterday’s class: indifference, the occasional rude and sarcastic remark,an aura of mysteriousness, and a ‘bad boy’ charm that draws in girls and boys alike.

She was wondering if he was a journalism major too, when the woman sitting beside her told her, “Nezumi-kun, huh? Too bad he’s taken.”

Kou looked to the girl beside her. Her face fell just as fast as she developed an infatuation for the man in front of him. “T-taken?” she whispered.

“Yeah,” the girl said, “I’m a first year, fresh out of high school, and I think, ‘I’m finally in uni! Time to find my first college crush!’ and then I saw him. So I did a little bit of research, found out that he’s a drama major, a member of the Literature Club, is very skilled in hand-to-hand combat, and handy with a knife and guns, possibly. And the most painful part: he’s already taken. Nobody knows who his girlfriend is, but assumptions of him being in a relationship arose when an informant overhead him say over the phone, ‘I’ll see you later, Your Majesty. Yeah, yeah, I love you too, so much it hurts. Bye.’ With regards to his real name, it seems that no one knows. I’m Osakada, by the way, Osakada Tomoka, journalism major like you.”

Kou stared at Osakada. “Wow... That’s a lot of information...Very impressive. I don’t know what to say, Osakada-san.”

Osakada said, “I work for the university paper, after all. What kind of reporter would I be if I couldn’t discover information such as that?”

Kou glanced at Nezumi. “Taken, huh...”

Osakada looked at her sympathetically. “I feel you, sister.”

**x.x.x.x**

A surprise came to her 45 minutes later when the professor announced, “I’m going to assign pair work—stop groaning, class—and the pairs will be decided by a randomizer I installed in my laptop.”

Louder groans came, to which the professor said, “In the future, you will all work with different people of different characters. You would not be able to choose who to work with, and I’m simply training you now.”

The students resigned to their fate and focused their attention on the screen where the randomizer was projected. The professor called names in pairs, and when he called Osakada’s name, Kou repeatedly muttered under her breath, _please pick me, please pick me, please pick me_.

The professor didn’t call her name. She looked to Osakada and her downturned lips and said, “Maybe next time, Kou-chan?”

Kou smiled. “Definitely next time, Tomo-chan.”

**x.x.x.x**

Half the class was already called when Nezumi’s name was mentioned. The first surprise was when his name appeared on the projector—just the plain, simple katakana characters of his name ネズミ –and Kou wasn’t sure if she should be appalled or amused by the sheer ridiculousness of it. (The Internet meme ‘I’m not even mad; that’s amazing’ crossed her mind.) But she shrugged it off, knowing that the Universe has its own reasons for farces that may or may not be farces at all.

The second surprise was when _Matsuoka Gou_ was called after Nezumi’s name. She mumbled a surprised “Eh?”, looked to Tomoka, then to the professor who just continued on pairing off his students, and finally, to the man seated in front of her.

“Matsuoka, was it?” he said, “It’s my pleasure to have you as a partner. Please take care of me.”

Kou was sure that if they weren’t in a class, Nezumi would end his statement with a curtsey, but because they are, he settled with a smile brighter than the sun and smoother than honey.

“M-m-my pleasure!” Kou stuttered, blushing.

Tomoka whispered to her, “I forgot to tell you, Kou-chan. From what reports say, Nezumi-kun has tendencies to spontaneously burst into dramatic expressions. And he’s a smooth fucker.”

She didn’t mind that Nezumi seemed to know that she’s Matsuoka Gou. Maybe he heard from her earlier conversation with Tomoka, and what things Nezumi heard wasn’t something that she wanted to know.

**x.x.x.x**

When their semantics class ended, Nezumi approached her. Her subconscious might have already registered this, but this was the first time that she noticed consciously how graceful and elegant Nezumi’s movements were. From the way he walked to the way he moved his hands, his movements screamed nothing but regality.

“Matsuoka-san,” he began, beguiling smile plastered on his lips, “How do you suppose we go on about our project?”

Nezumi’s politeness and smile seemed... fake. It looked clandestine, like how a serial killer would comfort his victims with soothing words before axing their heads.

Suddenly, Kou felt a shiver run down her spine. _This man is dangerous_ , she thought. He’s a rude piece of shit one moment, and the next he’s all smiles and politeness. She doesn’t know why Nezumi was treating her this way. Maybe because it’s the first time they’ve been formally introduced and he’s wary of strangers?

“We should compare schedules first so we can see our common free times,” Kou said, and no, she totally didn’t suggest that so she could know Nezumi’s schedule.

“I’m free on weekdays after seven. Saturdays and Sundays are not open for discussion,” he said.

“Oh. Okay,” she said, and mentally berated herself for not realizing that someone as cautious as Nezumi wouldn’t give their full schedule to a complete stranger.

That, however, didn’t deter her from asking another thing. “Why only after seven?”

Nezumi waited a beat before replying, as if considering if the question was worth answering. “Work.”

“Well, okay,” she said, “Where should we do our project? The library is open until 10 PM, and—”

“Where do you live?” he asked. Kou was surprised by his non-sequitur statement, but nonetheless said, “A train ride away from here.”

“Fine. We can work at the library, but are you sure that you’d want to walk the streets at night?”

“Japan is a safe country. I’ve been walking home at night, at 11 PM or one in the morning, without anything bad happening to me.” (Which is true, but her brother got mad upon learning this. He forced a pepper spray upon her so _I wouldn’t have to worry that much—but I’m still worried, okay!_ )

“Are you sure that you won’t mind waiting? If I’m the one in your shoes, I would _negotiate_ for a time where I wouldn’t have to wait.”

“My class on Fridays ends at 12 PM. I can go home and meet you at the library at 7 PM.”

“If that suits you.”

“It’s settled then.”

Kou wondered why Nezumi suddenly shifted from fake-polite to almost-condescending, but she supposed that even actors get tired of acting.

Still, it doesn’t change the fact that Kou’s going to spend three hours with her crush.

**xxx---xxx---xxx---xxx**

_April 24, 2015, 10:37 PM_

Here’s how Kou and Nezumi found themselves watching the 2012 _Les Miserables_ movie in the latter’s flat: they left the library at 10:12 PM—where they were scolded by a librarian who was very eager to close up and go home—in which a heavy downpour made them stay under the library’s awning for ten minutes. When the downpour turned into a drizzle, they both motioned to walk to their respective homes until Nezumi said, “Maybe you should wait for the rain to let up at my place. This rain looks like the type of those rains that weakens, then gets stronger.”

Kou blushed upon realizing the implication of what Nezumi said. _Whatwhatwhatwhat I’m going to spend the night in his place whaaaaaaaat, but it’s not like I’m sleeping there. I’m only going to stay until the rain lets up, but what if it doesn’t what if I really have to spend the night there. OMG I need to tell Tomo-chan about this, but what if Onii-chan learns what should I_ —

“Don’t worry; I live with someone else. And even if I didn’t, I wouldn’t lay a finger on you,” he said with a smirk, then walked away with an umbrella in hand. He looked over his shoulder and said, “And don’t think that I’m doing this out of my goodwill. Someone will get mad if I let you go home in this downpour.”

Nezumi didn’t seem like the type who carried an umbrella, but maybe the person he’s living with, who may or may not be his girlfriend, made sure that he carried one. And maybe his roommate, or his girlfriend, who may or may not be the same person, will get angry if Nezumi didn’t do the gentlemanly act of offering his place as a sanctuary in this heavy rain.

And so, fifteen minutes later, Kou was sitting on Nezumi’s ratty red couch, mug of hot chocolate in her hands, with the telly singing _master of the house quick to catch yer eye never wants a passerby to pass him by_.

(Also, there was a cage with three mice. Kou screamed, but Nezumi assured her that they wouldn’t hurt her. Until he tells them to. Kou internally screamed.)

Somewhere in between Monsieur and Madame Thénardier’s singing, Nezumi’s phone rang. Kou overheard ‘Where are you?’ and ‘Dinner? Right, I forgot to eat dinner... Chinese is fine. What do you want, Matsuoka-san?’

It took Kou a second to realise that Nezumi asked him a question. “We’re getting Chinese. What do you want?”

She realised that she hadn’t eaten anything besides an apple before she left home, so she stowed away her shyness and said, “Fried rice, I guess. With dumplings.”

Nezumi said over the phone, “One fried rice with dumplings. Yes, it’s for our guest. I know you’d throw a fit if you learned that I let her go to her house a train ride away in this weather. Yeah, yeah, the usual for me. And don’t forget the fortune cookies! You always forget the fortune cookies! Okay. I got it. Hurry your ass back here.”

Kou was about to ask if that was his girlfriend and if she’s also his roommate, but the Thénardiers finished their song and she got engrossed in the story, and didn’t get to ask her question.

And it looked like she wouldn’t be getting it answered soon, because 20 minutes later, the door opened, and a man carrying plastic bags of Chinese takeaway came inside.

The man put the umbrella away in the umbrella stand at the _genkan_. However, the man being partly drenched in rain wasn’t the most striking thing about him; he had white hair, red eyes, and a red scar across his cheeks.

“Took you long enough,” Nezumi said, striding towards his roommate— _Not girlfriend then_ —and took the bags from him. He told the man, “You always nagged me about carrying an umbrella, but you’re the one soaking wet.”

“I had to keep the food dry,” the other said, and he turned to Kou, “Good evening, Miss. I’m Shion. I’m so glad that Nezumi didn’t let you go home by yourself. And if you’re wondering about my appearance, like what most people do the first time they meet me, I got this from an illness when I was a kid.”

“G-good evening, Shion-kun,” she said, “I’m Matsuoka Gou, but please call me Kou.” She wanted to ask more about that illness, but she didn’t want to breach any walls.

“Nice meeting you, Kou-san. Here’s your dinner,” Shion said, handing over Kou’s food.

“How much do I owe you?” she asked.

“Don’t worry, it’s on me,” Shion said at the same time Nezumi said, “¥180.”

Shion rolled his eyes and told Kou, “Please ignore him.”

They ate dinner while watching Les Miserables. Kou noticed that Nezumi had somehow loosened up. He’s constantly on watch and never lets his guard down, but here, sitting beside Shion, he seemed to have opened up, and his laughs and smiles definitely weren’t fake.

And speaking of smiles... Kou noticed that Nezumi would look over at Shion and smile fondly. For someone who knew Nezumi for barely five days, like Kou, a genuine and fond smile was a foreign look on his face.

But maybe it’s because Nezumi and Shion know each other. They look very comfortable with each other, and they wouldn’t be roommates if they weren’t, right?

Shion’s voice shook her out of her reveries. “Kou-san, what do you major in?”

“I’m a journalism major.”

“I’m an ecology major, and Nezumi here is a drama major, as you might know already. He has a scholarship granted to those who scored at least 95% in the entrance exam _and_ those who are ‘gifted with exceptional talents’!” Shion beamed. He looked so proud of Nezumi, but Nezumi, on the other hand, looked pissed.

“Stop saying unnecessary things. And don’t talk as if you aren’t one of those exceptionally gifted whatchamacallits,” Nezumi said, and muttered under his breath in a harsh tone which lacked venom—and if you listen closely, might even be called gentle—“Airhead...”

**x.x.x.x**

Dinner was a silent affair, broken only by the droning of the telly, or Nezumi’s occasional belting out of the lyrics. And as if he’s not handsome or smart enough, his voice was also breath-taking.

Kou wanted to smash her head against the table for knowing such a perfect man.

Okay, maybe not perfect. But having an angelic face _and_ an angelic voice, not to mention an apparent and astounding skill in drama? _Damn, I’ll take muscular guys any day, but Nezumi-kun is the sole exception_.

Kou finished her meal and asked where the bin was. Shion said that he’d take all of the garbage to the kitchen (presumably where the wastebin is). Nezumi followed him.

But then she got thirsty, so she went to the kitchen to get water, only to be stopped at the doorway. She blushed, hid behind the wall, and processed what she just saw: Shion with his arms around Nezumi’s neck, pouting, and Nezumi, with his arms around Shion’s waist, looking annoyed, like the annoyed look Sousuke-kun would often give her brother; the annoyed look that’s not really annoyed, but more like a fond exasperation someone gives a person they love.

_Could it be...?_

She peeked from behind the wall, and strained her ears to hear what they were saying.

Shion was still hugging Nezumi, only that the distance between their bodies became non-existent. Kou heard Shion say, “No you don’t, because you love me,” to which Nezumi grumpily replied— _oh gosh he’s actually capable of using that tone of voice? It’s so weird coming from him but he’s also so adorable oh my gooood_ —“I hate that I love you.”

“No you don’t,” Shion said with a lilt to his voice.

Nezumi sighed. “Okay. You win. I love you, Your Majesty.”

“I love you too.”

And then Shion craned his neck—but not that much because Nezumi’s only taller than him by a few centimetres—while Nezumi leaned down. Their lips met halfway, and Nezumi and wrapped Shion in his arms.

Kou’s face _burned_. She was shaking, and whether out of stupefaction or embarrassment is something that escaped her. _So Nezumi-kun doesn’t have a girlfriend, because he has a_ boyfriend _and they both live together whaaaaaaaaaaaaaat_

She looked back to the two. Nezumi had his phone in the air. _Is he taking a selfie of them kissing?_ The two released each other, and before she could get caught, Kou rushed back to couch where she pretended to be engrossed in Eponine’s heartbreak as she sang _On My Own_. Eponine was crying and singing in the rain about an unrequited love, a stark contrast to the seemingly love-filled aired she witnessed in the kitchen.

The two came back. Shion was glowing, while Nezumi had a slight smile to his lips. If the distance between them was just inches a while ago, this time, Kou was absolutely sure that it shrunk to just mere centimetres.

**x.x.x.x**

It’s already one in the morning. The rain became a full-blown storm, and Shion refused to let Kou go home. He offered her his bed— _their bed_ , Kou mentally rectified—but she refused, because _I can’t take my hosts’ bed!_ Even Nezumi had the decency to offer her their bed.

In the end, Nezumi managed to convince her with his syrupy words. So Kou begrudgingly took their bed, pulled the blanket up to her chin, and drifted off to dreamland.

And in the morning, when she woke up to Nezumi and Shion snuggled on the couch swathed in blankets, and if she took a photo of them for _private viewing because they’re so cute_ , well, no one would know, and no one needs to.

**xxx---xxx---xxx---xxx**

_April 28, 2015 9:00 AM_

“I know that you saw us,” Nezumi said as he sat down next to her.

It was three days after Kou had the unintentional sleepover at Nezumi and Shion’s. She and Nezumi barely made contact in those days, besides messages about their project, so she had no idea what he was referring to.

“I’m sorry?” Kou asked.

“In the kitchen. You saw Shion and I kiss.”

Kou blushed. “I d-d-didn’t mean to see i-it! I was just t-thirsty and then I saw the two of you and _please don’t hurt me._ ”

Nezumi laughed. No, ‘cackled’ was more the right word. “Hurt you? Why would I do that?”

“…Because I accidentally uncovered your secret?”

“Secret?”

“That you’re in a relationship with Shion-kun, who, you know, also happens to be a guy…”

“That’s not a secret. I don’t give a fuck about what people think of me and Shion. It’s not that I’m trying to hide our relationship, but I’m not flaunting it either,” Nezumi said, and he added very softly it’s almost inaudible, “We both love each other. That’s all that matters, and it’s more than enough.”

And just like that, Kou’s infatuation for Nezumi dissipated. He’s too in love with Shion, and from the brief moment she spent with Shion, she knew that the white-haired man is equally head over heels for her seatmate.

She sighed, not because her ex-crush would never like her that way, but because of the turn of events in her life.

 _Onii-chan_ , she thought, _I think my life just became entangled with the lives two dorks as gross as you and Sousuke-kun_.

_Maybe I’m not coming to Australia next year, after all._

**xxx---xxx---xxx---xxx**

**Omake**

_April 28, 2015, 11:29 PM_

Safu was in the middle of studying her handouts for her general psychology class when her phone beeped. She just got a message on Snapchat from Nezumi.

Why the hell is she even friends with Nezumi on Snapchat? She couldn’t remember adding him—if anything, she’d block him—so Shion must surely be the one behind this.

The thought of Shion made her smile. Sure, he and Nezumi had been together for four years, and her love for her best friend is most likely unrequited, but her rivalry with Nezumi still exists. She hates Nezumi’s guts, and Nezumi hates her guts.

And to win another point in the competition that no one keeps track of, she made an excuse about not seeing Shion enough, and kept him for _hours_ at a nearby coffee shop.

Shion was supposed to come home three or four hours ago, but she managed to make him stay inside the 24-hour coffee shop. She knew that Nezumi gets home at 7 PM, and keeping Shion with her and spending time with her best friend while getting ahead of Nezumi is killing two birds with one stone. But with the rain worsening, then getting better, then worsening again, she had to let Shion go home.

The two lived in an apartment about 20 minutes away from uni, while Safu lived in the dorms inside the campus. She would have loved to live near Shion, but that damn rodent just had to whisk him away.

She looked to her phone and saw a photo of Shion and Nezumi in a liplock with the caption _nice try safu_ , followed by that smirking emoji.

She threw her phone on her bed, which (thankfully) landed softly.

That is one sight she didn’t want to see.

So what if Nezumi noticed that she purposely kept Shion away from him? She had long since given up being Shion’s girlfriend, but that doesn’t mean that that rodent can monopolise his time. Shion’s her best friend, and she has every right to spend time with him.

She went back to studying, not really registering the printed words because she was too busy concocting a plan that would trump Nezumi.

But for now, she needed to erase the image of Shion and Nezumi kissing from her mind.

_Ugh._

 

 

**II.**

_February 15, 2016, 10:00 AM_

Females looking forward to escaping giving giri choco to their male co-workers sure saved a ton of money this year when Valentine’s Day fell on a Sunday.

However, women looking forward to giving honmei choco to their objects of affection had to wait until Monday, especially if they only see their crushes on weekdays.

Which is the case for Nezumi.

 **xxx---xxx---xxx---xxx**  

_February 14, 2016 8:43 AM_

Yesterday, the actual Valentine’s Day, Nezumi woke up with a blowjob from Shion. And then they showered together where he fucked Shion against the bathroom wall. And in the kitchen, where Nezumi planned on giving the white-haired boy a lazy handjob as the latter prepared food, Shion stopped him, made him sit down at the table, and served him breakfast.

“Sexy times are over,” Shion said while handing the other man a cup of hot chocolate, “And we should start doing couple-y things.”

Nezumi narrowed his eyes as he accepted the cup. “Shouldn’t you be giving me real chocolates?” he said, “And I see no wrong staying inside all day having marathon sex.”

Shion chuckled. “We already did that last year. I want a real date this time.”

Nezumi rolled his eyes. He knew where this was going. “Fine. What’s your plan?”

Shion kissed his cheek and handed him a box of Godiva chocolates. “You’ll find out later.”

**x.x.x.x**

_February 14, 2016, 11:16 AM_

‘Later’ turned out to be Inukashi’s shelter where Shion roped him once again into washing the dogs.

“’Real date’ my ass,” he said, “How is washing these mutts a real date?”

“We haven’t seen Inukashi since Christmas break,” Shion answered, “And we probably won’t any sooner, not until your production and my environmental forum are over.”

Even after eight years of knowing him, and four and a half years of being in a relationship with him, Nezumi still gets amazed at how utterly selfless Shion can be. Nezumi is a rude asshole with a vulgar mouth and sarcastic humour, and the other’s a gentle, selfless, caring airhead, who, despite being naïve at times, is still far more than he deserves.

“You should start thinking for yourself and stop putting others first,” Nezumi said.

Inukashi barged in, and told them to _quit yer yammerin’ and stop dawdling!_ as they tossed chocolates in their direction. (Predictably, Shion’s chocolate is bigger than Nezumi’s because Inukashi hates him.)

**x.x.x.x**

_February 14, 2016, 10:53 PM_

That night, when they could do nothing but lie down on the bed and go to sleep, Shion suddenly stood up and went outside their bedroom. He returned minutes later and sat down on the bed, wordlessly inviting Nezumi to do the same.

“Hand-made chocolates are the best, don’t you think?” Shion said, giving Nezumi a package wrapped in blue with a pattern of cute mice and hearts, “I got the recipe from my mum, by the way.”

Nezumi accepted the gift. “I’ll take this any time over those Godiva.”

He kissed Shion, and while the latter said that “sexy times are over,” it still didn’t stop the former from straddling and making out with him.

And, ultimately, bringing on another round of late-night fucking.

**xxx---xxx---xxx---xxx**

_February 15, 2016, 10:06 AM_

When Nezumi thought about how yesterday night ended, he smirked, remembering what role those chocolates played. His smirk was immediately erased when he was about to step out of their classroom and heard someone call his name.

 _Well, here it begins_.

“Nezumi-kun!” Kou said, “Here, chocolate for you.”

“Thanks... Gou.”

“It’s not Gou; it’s Kou!” she said, even though she knew that Nezumi only said ‘Gou’ to irritate her. “I hope it’s not too late for this giri choco. Although I’m sure that you already received plenty from Shion-kun yesterday.”

He thought about how he licked chocolate off Shion’s cock last night and said, “Yeah. Definitely plenty.”

Kou narrowed her eyes at the undertones in Nezumi’s voice, but ignored it. “Well, I gotta get going now. My next class is on the other side of the campus. See you around!”

Kou dashed off the door, and when Nezumi came outside, there was a literal queue of girls holding chocolates who perked up when he stepped out.

“Nezumi-san...” the first one said.

The next few minutes were a flurry of _Nezumi-kun, please accept these chocolates_ and _I know that you already have Shion-san, but I still want you to take this_ from blushing and stuttering maidens. There were a few bold and pushy ones, but he managed to fend them off with his caustic remarks. He also received a couple more from his classmates, fellow members at the Literature Club, and workmates. The most surprising thing wasn’t the honmei chocos he received from males; no, the most surprising was the chocolate he received from Safu.

He tried to refuse them all, especially Safu’s—“ _I don’t accept gifts from my enemies,_ ”—but they were a persistent lot, so he returned home with an armful and three tote bags of chocolates.

“What shall we do with these?” Shion asked, “Chocolate cake?”

“There’s an orphanage downtown,” Nezumi said.

Out of nowhere, Shion tackled him. He landed on the couch with the other straddling him.

“What was that for?” he asked.

Shion kissed his nose. “I knew that you’re kind at the deepest part of your ‘dark heart.’ Tsundere.”

“Am not!”

“You totally are,” and proceeded to pepper the other’s face with light kisses.

**xxx---xxx---xxx---xxx**

_February 16, 2016, 4:51 PM_

Nezumi downed his water in three big gulps. He was wiping the sweat off his face when their professor-slash-director clapped her hands, making the class gather at the centre of the stage.

“Two weeks until production day,” the director said, “So far, your performance is beginning to approach the above excellence level. However, it is still not on a professional level. This is what this university will teach you—to be thespians who meet and exceed excellence. I can see that your batch has that capacity.”

She paced around the floor and held up three gold stars. “These gold stars will be given to three different people each week. There is no limit on how many gold stars one can receive, so it is plausible that one may receive a gold star week after week. These symbolise your improvements as future actors. Each and every one of you has a chance to receive one of these, so all of you should do your best to acquire one. These shall be given until your second to the last term in uni, maybe by me, maybe a different professor.

“The three people with the highest number of accumulated gold stars will secure an internship spot at the Manhattan Theatre Club. All expenses will be paid by the university, including plane tickets, dormitories, and weekly allowance. The processing of the application shall be handled by the Drama Department as well.

“Now, are you ready to hear the three individuals who will first receive these stars?”

The class murmured amongst themselves, discussing which three are most likely to receive one. “That one who looks like a 13-year old kid,” one said, “Definitely Nezumi,” another said, “My money’s on that curly-haired dude with glasses,” someone added.

And true enough, those speculations turned out to be real when the director said, “Ciel Phantomhive. Nezumi. Kanata Irie. Here are your gold stars.”

The class clapped and congratulated the three. The director reminded them that just because they didn’t get a gold star this week doesn’t mean that they’d never get any, and that having a gold star isn’t a ticket to complacency.

Nezumi put the gold star in his bag. He left the theatre, and saw a red-headed menace.

“I see that Frances awarded you that much-coveted star,” they said, “Congratulations. Here, a chocolate for you that I made with L-O-V-E. I couldn’t catch you yesterday because of my work schedule, so I made a point to wait for you.”

Professor Sutcliff had been... harassing him ever since his first class with them a month ago. But not just him; their favourite seems to be Professor Michaelis and that guy from the admin, Mr Spears.

Nezumi wanted to shudder, but he didn’t want to show weakness. “No thanks. I already received plenty, and I don’t need more.”

He walked past Professor Sutcliff, but the latter caught him in the arm. “How rude! After I made this especially for you!”

“Lay off him, Grell,” someone said, “Or I’ll report you to the administrators for harassing someone for the nth time.”

“Another rude kid!” they said, “And it’s Professor Sutcliff to you, Phantomhive!”

Nezumi sneaked away and let the two bicker. From what he had observed, that kid with the eye patch and his red-haired professor seem to know each other prior, but are not on very good terms with each other.

He had enough of chocolates, and he didn’t want to eat or receive any more. The only chocolates worth receiving are only from Shion, after all, and those chocolates are more than enough to make him live to 90.

**xxx---xxx---xxx---xxx**

**Omake**

_February 14, 2016, 3:21 PM_

“Haru threw away all the chocolates I received!” Makoto moaned, “And to think that I could have made a lot of chocolate cake with those...”

“My chocolate is the only chocolate you need,” Haru said tonelessly.

Kou smiled. Her senpai-tachi have never changed. “So does that mean that I shouldn’t give this chocolate to Makoto-senpai?”

“You could, but I can’t guarantee what will happen to it,” Haru answered.

Nagisa laughed and said, “Same as always, Haru-chan. By the way, Gou, how are Rin-chan and Sou-chan?”

“It’s Kou; not Gou!” she said, “And Onii-chan and Sousuke-kun are doing fine. They made chocolates for each other and it was really cute!”

“What about your classmate? You have a crush on him, right? Did you give him honmei choco?” Nagisa asked.

Really, none of her Iwatobi friends have changed.

“Ugh, my crush on Nezumi-kun was so last semester. And it only lasted for less than a week! But I did give him giri choco.”

“He’s the drama major, right? The one in a relationship with the ecology major?” Rei said.

“Yes, Rei-kun. I’m surprised that you remember at all even though I just mentioned it in passing. As expected of you!”

“That’s my Rei!” Nagisa beamed.

“And did that Nezumi-kun accept your chocolate?” Makoto inquired.

“Yeah. He probably wanted to turn me down, but I insisted that he take it. He’s actually a good guy beneath his rough exterior.”

“Like Rin-chan?”

“Hmmm... I never really thought about it, but they do have similar points.”

The waitress arrived with their orders. Kou told them the story of how one day, she tagged along with Shion to wash some dogs. “There were a lot of cute dogs, and I came back the next week!”

“I feel like washing those dogs too...” Makoto said, “What do you think, Haru?”

“I’ll think about it,” he replied, but Kou said, “Ugh, no more! I don’t need another couple in my volunteer work! I’ve had enough of Nezumi-kun groping Shion-kun!”

 

 

**III.**

_March 5, 2016, 6:11 PM_

"Nezumi, look over here!" Shion said. Nezumi obliged, and then heard a shutter click a second later.

He scowled. "Geez, stop wasting the film. Those things are expensive," he remarked, and went back to fixing his make-up.

"But this is your first stage production in uni. I have to capture it no matter what!"

"That surely can't be the sole reason why you bought a Polaroid camera," Nezumi deadpanned.

"Of course it isn't, but it's a part of the reason,” the other said, grinning.

Then Shion called over—much to Nezumi's shock—their director _of all people_ , and fucking asked her to take a photo of them. Shion stood behind Nezumi and placed his hands over the latter's shoulders. The director then pressed the shutter.

Nezumi was aghast. _This idiot airhead..._

"This must be the beau," Director Midford said as she handed Shion the photo.

"I'm Shion, ecology major. Thank you for taking care of Nezumi and letting me into the backstage, Director."

"No worries, as long as you don't get in the way. And more importantly," she said, laying a hand on Shion's shoulder, "Fix your hairstyle! It's unruly for a young man like you!"

"E-eh?"Shion muttered. Director Midford's hands were poised over his head to 'fix' his hair when the light technician called her attention.

"You barely escaped that one," Nezumi said, "Professor Midford is obsessed over the appearance of us 'young ladies and gentlemen.' Says we must always look proper and shit. And given her fashion sense and values, she might as well be living in 19th century London."

And then the stage manager hollered, "TEN MINUTES BEFORE WE BEGIN!"

Everyone flew into a state of panic as they made last minute preparations. Shion squeezed Nezumi's hand, kissed his cheek, and softly said, "Break a leg, _Eve_."

Nezumi uttered in assent, and then Shion went away to find his seat.

Safu saved a seat for him. On-going rivalry with Nezumi or not, she'll never pass up the chance to spend time with Shion. Even Inukashi ("I'm just here so I could laugh at him _when_ he makes a mistake!") and Rikiga ("Eve maybe an insolent piece of shit, but his talent is the real thing." “You certainly didn’t think like that when you first found out his true colours!” “Well, that was then, and this is now!”) Shame that his mother couldn't make it though, because the bakery's getting more and more customers lately, and _I’m just really busy with the bakery, but I know that Nezumi will make an astounding performance. Come visit me any time, okay?_ (Rikiga, upon learning that Karan couldn’t make it, almost burst into tears.)

On his way to his sit beside Safu, he spotted Kou and her friends. He gave her a little wave, and she waved back, and then he was seated, and finally, the curtains rose.

**x.x.x.x**

The funny thing about this production is, for a class of drama majors, you’d expect something like _The Taming of the Shrew_ or _Pygmalion_ or _A Doll’s House_. But no, they didn’t perform any of those classic plays; they performed _Cinderella_ of all things.

“There’s nothing we can do about it, even though I’d rather not play a role I’ve played before.” Nezumi said one night after he came home bone-tired from the rehearsals, “And the ridiculousness in which the director chose who would play who—I mean, who would use a fucking lottery? This is our midterms exam for fuck’s sake.”

“Now, now, calm down,” Shion said as he kneaded the muscles at Nezumi’s back, “Didn’t you say that this is a part of your curriculum?”

“Yeah, a fairy tale in the midterms and finals. Then in the future semesters, we’d move to the classical plays and even do a musical. But the way the roles are selected isn’t in the syllabus. It’s entirely—no, not there, move upwards, yes, yes that spot—Midford’s idea.”

“Stop complaining. You were already Cinderella during our first year in high school. I’m sure that you’d nail it this time.”

“But we’re uni students, Shion. _Uni_. Who the hell produces fucking Cinderella in uni?”

“Just shut up, let me massage you, and think of how you can play your role without too much animosity.”

**x.x.x.x**

Shion thought that the choosing-the-roles-via-lottery method wasn’t so bad (given that Nezumi was the lead role), but as he looked at one of Cinderella’s sisters who looks like a 13-year old, or the stepmother who is clearly played by a guy who can’t use a feminine voice at will like Nezumi, he thought that _yeah, maybe this is a bad idea._

But since they were all drama majors, their performances were believable—top-notch, dare he say—even though one of Cinderella’s sisters looks too young to be searching for a husband (even by Middle Ages standards), or the stepmother’s voice being quite distracting.

It looks like this whole play is just an ice-breaker, an introduction, a warm-up.

Shion couldn’t wait for the time when Nezumi would perform his beloved Shakespearean plays.

**x.x.x.x**

As always, Shion is mesmerised by Nezumi’s beauty and his ability to shift from feminine to masculine easily, and he’s certain that this is one of the reasons why he was awarded a gold star. Even Inukashi, Safu, and Rikiga, the three people who loathe Nezumi (but still come to his plays and do frenemy things with him), concede his talent. Nezumi shines on the stage, he’s in his element, and is doing the thing he’s best at, and Shion can’t help but be filled with so much pride for the man he loves.

 **x.x.x.x**

“Fucking hell Shion, you just took a photo of me before the opening!” Nezumi complained as he took off his wig.

“But this is your ‘after’ photo, once you’re done removing your wig and make-up. So hurry. We still need an after photo of us.”

“I’m going to confiscate that thing.”

“No you won’t.”

But Nezumi still acquiesced. He scowled at the Polaroid, and after Shion took the photo, he asked, “Is this going to be a regular thing now?”

Shion’s answer came after he stood behind Nezumi and held the camera in front of them, taking a photo selfie-style.

“Yes, and you better look forward to it.”

Nezumi’s frown deepened.

**xxx---xxx---xxx---xxx**

_March 5, 2016, 8:47 PM_

After their friends left, and after the director gave her mandatory congratulatory speech, the class dispersed. Nezumi took Shion’s hand in his and slithered out of the theatre backstage to avoid the horde of women waiting to give the actors gifts and flowers.

Shion held Nezumi’s hand tighter and they walked under the night sky, just like what they did after the latter’s plays when they were in high school. Same old avoiding of the women, same old escape from the backdoor, and same old fingers interlocked with each other as they relished the feeling of just being together.

Shion pulled something out of his bag. “They’re a little crushed, but they still look fine,” and placed the three stalks of aster behind Nezumi’s ear

“Asters? Really?”

“Yes. They’re your favourite, and rightfully so. Now, smile for the camera.”

“Not this _again_.”

Shion took his fifth photo of the night, and safely tucked it away inside his bag.

“It’s a subtle way of me laying claim, don’t you think?” he said, holding Nezumi’s hand and swinging it between them as they resumed their walk home.

“Idiot.”

Shion smiled, and his heart pounded louder just because of how happy he was with Nezumi and his life.

_This moment with him is more than enough._

 

 

**IV.**

_March 14, 2016, 7:09 AM_

Fucking White Day.

Nezumi has four problematic days each year: White Day, Shion’s birthday, Karan’s birthday (“ _I told you to call me Mum, Nezumi!_ ” “ _Hopefully in the future, Karan_.”), and Christmas. Every time he thinks of something to give Shion or Karan as a present, he thinks that nothing will ever be the ‘right’ present for them.

Shion told him not to bother with a return gift, since he’s away on a two-day conference about biodiversity, which means that he wouldn’t return until March 16th.  But here is Nezumi, staring at his phone and contemplating on calling Karan and asking her for the best white chocolate recipe.

In the previous years, he would have just settled for the most expensive white chocolate he could find, and throw in a book or a shirt or treats for their pet mice. Shion would happily accept his gifts, and then ride Nezumi six ways from Sunday.

But he wants to give Shion something personal this year. All of his previous gifts, though clearly impersonal, were happily received. After all, he’s not the type to demonstrate his emotions (although that slightly changed since they got together).

An hour later, he’s in a grocery store looking for the ingredients that Karan had told him over the phone. (“My, my, how sweet of you. Might I expect wedding bells soon?” “Karan—” “Hush now; I’m just teasing you. You make my son very happy, and I deeply thank you for that.”) But he’s still thinking of giving him something, because besides hand-made white chocolate, what else could he give him?

Another hour later, he was about to swallow his pride and ask Safu for an opinion, but his pride got the better of him and no, _I’ll never ask an enemy_.

He stepped inside the department store and begun the hunt.

**xxx---xxx---xxx---xxx**

 

_March 16, 2016, 7:12 AM_

“I missed youuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu,” Shion said as he tackled Nezumi to the ground, his bags falling on the floor.

“It’s been only two days, you child,” he said, and then admitted a beat later, “Okay. I missed you too.”

Shion kissed him, and then prodded his mouth with his tongue.

“We can’t,” Nezumi said breathlessly, “We have classes.”

Shion stopped. “Fine. But you have to promise me that we’ll continue this later.”

Nezumi chuckled. “As you wish, Your Majesty.”

**xxx---xxx---xxx---xxx**

_March 16, 2016, 7:26 PM_

Having Shion’s tongue inside his mouth while his hands removed his belt almost made Nezumi forget about his plans. Almost.

“Wait,” he said, “There’s something I need to do first.”

Shion whimpered. “Neeeeeeeeezuuuuuumiiiiiiiiii.”

“I know, I know. Later, I promise.”

He went to their room and came back to the living room a few minutes later, carrying his gifts for Shion.

“Happy White Day,” he said.

Shion took the gifts. “I got blue balls because of something that you could give me after you fuck me?”

Nezumi rolled his eyes. “Jesus, Shion. It’s not like I’m not going to fuck you later. Just accept these.”

“But where did you hide these? I think that I’ve already discovered all your hiding places in this flat.”

“Not all of them,” he said, “C’mon, open it.”

Shion opened the chocolates first. “They smell good,” and after eating one, he said, “They taste even better.”

“They better be. I had to ask your mama for the recipe, you know.”

Shion laughed. “Oh really? What did she say?”

Nezumi remembered something about wedding bells and muttered, “None of your business.”

The other giggled some more and opened the other gift. He stared at the present for a while before asking, “What are these?”

“Can’t you fucking see?”

Now, it was Shion’s turn to roll his eyes.

“They’re matching mobile phone charms, okay. Oneforyouandoneforme,” and then Nezumi turned his head away because he was blushing furiously against his will.

Shion grinned. “I didn’t quite catch that last bit. Can you repeat it?”

“Shut up and take one of these dammit!” Nezumi exclaimed.

Shion laughed, that kind of laugh where you had to literally roll on the floor as you clutch your stomach. When he composed himself, he grabbed one of the charms—three tiny mice with, coincidentally, the same colours as their mice—and attached it to his phone.

“I love you so much, you dork,” Shion said, smiling softly.

Nezumi kissed him to shut him up, because if he didn’t, then he’d spout more nonsense about _I’m so glad that I have you_ and _these are more than enough, Nezumi_ and _do you mind if I attach the charm to your phone_?

**x.x.x.x**

And then they had a repeat performance of what happened during last Valentine’s Day, only this time, it was Shion straddling him and licking white chocolate off his chest moments before he rode him.

 

 

**V.**

_April 2, 2016, 9:12 AM_

Cherry blossoms are hard to come by in their part of the town, so Nezumi made a suggestion a week earlier to go to Kyoto to take part in the Hanami festival.

But Shion just pulled an all-nighter to finish five essays, and it didn’t matter anymore if they can’t kiss under the cherry blossoms in the ancient capital, because holding Shion in his arms, playing with his hair, and the occasional burrowing of the white-haired man onto his chest and sleepy murmurs of his name is all he needs.

And it’s more than enough.

 

**VI.**

_July 19, 2016, 11:12 AM_

Makoto swam over to where Haru was floating on the water and said, “Haru-chan, it’s time for lunch.”

Haru had long since stopped asking Makoto to ‘drop the –chan,’ because no matter how many times he asked him to do that, Makoto never listened.

Haru begrudgingly left the pool and went to where Makoto and their friends were.

He’d rather go back to Iwatobi and swim at SC Returns, but Rin and Yamazaki, who just came back to Japan, wanted to “experience the Tokyo pools.” But Yamazaki had something to do, so it was just Rin and his friends from Iwatobi.

“...and here’s your bento, Haruka-senpai,” Kou said, handing over a bento with rice and—wait for it—mackerel.

“Thanks,” he muttered, and sat beside Makoto.

“Wow, this is really good, Gou-chan!” Nagisa exclaimed, and held out piece of penguin-shaped onigiri to Rei’s face, “Have a taste, Rei-chan!”

“It’s not Gou; it’s Kou!” Kou said the same time Rei said, “Stop it, Nagisa-kun! You shoving food onto my face is not beautiful!”

Haru zoned the bickering out. He focused on the mackerel (not as good as his, but still good), occasionally offering Makoto a bite. Makoto refused, saying that he’s had enough of mackerel, but Haru would pout, so Makoto has no choice but to take the offered bite.

And then Haru’s heart would squeeze with so much love for Makoto, because Makoto would do anything and everything for him, and sometimes, it’s just too much, and he wonders what in the world he did to deserve someone like him.

Makoto’s voice broke him out of his reverie. “How’s Australia, Rin?”

Since Rin and Yamazaki came back yesterday, they hadn’t mentioned their life in Australia. Sure, he talked to Rin over the phone, but the perfunctory ‘how’s your life in that country’ must be asked, even if Haru already knows that the two Samezuka boys are doing well in the land down under.

“Our training’s going to get tougher when we return,” Rin said, “And there are going to be Olympic scouts in the next season of competitions, so we can’t slack off. How about your studies?”

“Haru’s getting offers left and right,” Makoto said proudly.

“And Rei-chan’s been selected to be a part of a research team!” Nagisa beamed.

“But what about the two of you?” Rin asked.

“Makoto’s doing fine. He volunteers in a dog shelter when he’s not busy being a volunteer coach for kids,” Haru answered for Makoto.

“Nagisa-kun is rehearsing for their next production,” Rei answered for Nagisa.

“What play?” Rin asked.

“ _The Merchant of Venice_. Really boring. I want something fun!” Nagisa said.

Kou chuckled.

“What is it?” Rin asked.

“I have a drama major friend, and he’s the opposite of Nagisa-kun. He _loves_ classical plays. And he also volunteers for the dog shelter that Makoto-senpai and I volunteer at. You know about this, right, Onii-chan?” Kou said, and uttered in an undertone, “Though ‘volunteer’ might not be the right word to describe him...”

“Oh, do you mean Nezumi-kun?” Makoto said.

“Yes! Have the two of you met?” Kou asked.

“Yeah! I have seen him at the shelter a number of times. Though I’m not sure if he really is a volunteer because he’s complaining the entire time...”

Nagisa said, “But how can one complain when working with dogs? Being surrounded by dogs is heaven!”

“It’s not the dogs per se that Nezumi-kun hates,” Kou said, “It’s the owner of the shelter, Inukashi. Though I think that Nezumi-kun also hates the dogs because they belong to Inukashi.”

“He loves classical plays and hates dogs? I don’t think that we’ll get along,” Nagisa said.

“Nezumi-kun is a little bit grumpy, but Kou says that he’s actually a really good actor,” Makoto said.

“I’ve met him once when I picked Makoto up,” Haru said, “He doesn’t seem like a nice person.”

“Now, now, Haru,” Makoto placated.

“He’s actually a good guy,” Kou said, “Once you get to know him, that is. Sure, he can be... impolite most of the time, but he’s extremely good at acting and you’ll see just how kind he is when he’s with Shion-kun!”

“True, true,” Makoto said, “Whenever Nezumi-kun and Inukashi-san get into a fight, Shion-kun always mediates. And the two stop fighting.”

“I just wish that Nezumi-kun would stop... distracting Shion-kun,” Kou said, and blushed when she confessed, “I accidentally saw them making out in the stock room. Shion-kun is not the type to do that while at work, so I’m sure that it’s Nezumi-kun’s fault...”

The conversation drifted from dogs to Nagisa’s dream of performing in Broadway to another of Nagisa’s dream of doing an underwater play—though none of them is sure how would that work—to the kids that Makoto coaches and the hundreds of postcards that Haru sent to a company in the hopes of winning a one-year supply of mackerel (which Haru won, by the way).

And then Sousuke arrived, having apparently finished his thing—whatever it was—and Haru noticed the small smile that suddenly came to Rin’s lips, and he thinks that it’s so nice that his friend has found someone.

Later, when they have finished eating, he took Makoto by the hand and led him to the pool, to which Rin cried, “Get a room, you two!”

**xxx---xxx---xxx---xxx**

**Omake**

_July 19, 2016, 7:41 PM_

Nezumi sneezed.

“Are you having a cold now?” Shion asked, stopping to dice the potatoes.

“No,” Nezumi said, and resumed stirring the pot, “Someone’s probably badmouthing me. I can’t help it if their girlfriends leave them because they think they have a chance with me.”

“Oooh, my boyfriend’s a heartthrob,” Shion said sarcastically, “I should keep a better eye on him.”

“You can start doing that by leaving a hickey here,” Nezumi said, pointing to his neck with a grin.

“Hmmm, that might work. People will see how whipped you are and that’s more than enough.”

“Whipped? Me? Excuse me Shion, but—”

“Move,” Shion said, and dropped the vegetables that he had been dicing over the pot that Nezumi was stirring and said, “I said ‘move,’ and you moved. See? That’s how just whipped you are.”

Nezumi was speechless, presumably by not being able to make sense of Shion’s (flawed) logic. “Fucking idiot.”

 

 

**VII.**

_August 2, 2016_

Nezumi and Shion rent a unit in an apartment complex 20 minutes away from the uni, which is also 10 minutes away from Nezumi’s workplace. They live on the second floor in room 206, where the windows in their living room offer the daily view of the quiet street below.

If you draw the curtains in the living room and look at the streets, you’ll see Inukashi’s dog shelter. Sometimes, you would see Inukashi chasing a hyperactive dog, or a dog which refused to be washed, or a dog who escaped from their clutches to shake the water off itself.

Sometimes, Shion would look out the window with a cuppa, and see Inukashi herding a small group of dogs, and if Inukashi looks up, they’ll offer a toothy grin at Shion, and Shion will give a smile and wave in return. Sometimes, Nezumi would look out of the window, book in hand, and see Inukashi lazing in front of their shop. And then Inukashi would look up, and when they see Nezumi, they’ll hold their middle finger up, and Nezumi would do the same.

(Shion will see the exchange, and he’d reprimand Nezumi. He’ll offer an apologetic smile to Inukashi through the window, despite Nezumi’s insistence that the dog keeper started it.)

**x.x.x.x**

There’s a tiny kitchen-slash-dining room with three counters, a four-range stove, a tiny fridge, and a sink with a small window above. A small wooden table with four chairs was placed before the counters.

The fridge contains leftovers, a loaf of bread, two cartons of milk, and various snacks. In the cupboard are biscuits, teabags, instant coffee, Pocky, and Nezumi’s hidden stash of biscuits shaped like mice. (Nezumi thinks that his stash is ‘hidden,’ but he doesn’t know that Shion knows all about it.)

**x.x.x.x**

In the living room are a red couch, a coffee table, a small flat telly, and a rack containing DVDs made up of 95% musicals and movies, and 5% whatever Shion fancies. There’s also a large cage with three mice named Hamlet (“Because he likes to be read Hamlet out loud.” “That’s dumb, Shion.” “Don’t listen to the meanie, Hamlet. Your name is not dumb.” “Who are you calling meanie?!”), Cravat (“Because the colour of his fur looks like those cravats that my mum bakes.”), and Tsukiyo (“Because of the dark colour of his fur.”). There are feeders, water bottles, hideaways, and exercise wheels for these mice.

Nezumi and Shion love spoiling their mice. Sometimes, when they come home after visiting Karan, they’d set aside three muffins just for them.

**x.x.x.x**

The bathroom is nothing special. It’s just your regular bathroom with a medicine cabinet, a cupboard for towels, bathrobes, and spare toothpaste, toothbrush, soap, shampoo, and conditioner.

(“Look at my hair Shion, look at it! I need to use conditioner to keep it beautiful! And stop fucking laughing!”)

There’s also a sink and mirror where they’d brush their teeth side by side and shave their facial hair.

(“Maybe you should grow a beard, Nezumi. Or participate in No Shave November.”

“Can you imagine me with a fucking beard?”

“Just try it!”

“Well, I wanted you to try my slave Leia costume, but did you try it? No! You said, ‘No, Nezumi, only you are suitable to wear this’ or some other kind of excuse. Forget it!”

Shion’s face took on that dreamy expression. “I still remember when you put on that costume...”

“You sick pervert!”)

**x.x.x.x**

Their bedroom contains a queen-sized bed, a dresser, a cupboard for bed sheets, blankets, comforters, and pillow cases, a study table, and a lamp above a bedside table containing notebooks, various knickknacks, condoms, a few bottles of lube, and a box of Kleenex. There’s also a locked drawer which may or may not contain sex toys.

And there’s the vanity dresser, which is really Nezumi’s vanity dresser because it contains Nezumi’s moisturiser, Nezumi’s toner, Nezumi’s scrubber, and whatever things Nezumi puts on his face that Shion can’t name because _I’m an actor and I need to keep a pretty face_.

(“Just admit it. You’re vain.”

“It’s called _maintenance_. Believe me; I wouldn’t buy this shit if I didn’t have to.”

“Oh right, because your pretty face is what sustains you as an actor.”

“It’s my talent, dumbass, and admit it, you love my pretty face.”

“Aw, I do. I love your pretty face, Nezumi-senpai! What products do you use?”

“Fuck you, Shion.”

“Maybe later.”)

**x.x.x.x**

There’s another room in their flat: Nezumi’s favourite room. It’s a storage room that Nezumi converted into library. It contains his massive collection of books, from Shakespeare and Dickens to Orwell, Rowling, and Asimov. Shion’s scientific journals are also housed there, along with a couple of photo albums.

There’s an upright at the corner of the library, and a small couch inside so Nezumi wouldn’t have to go to the living room if he wanted to read. Above the couch hung a corkboard with these photos:

  1. **Shion grinning with his arms around Nezumi and his barely-there smile** , dated _September 7, 2012_ – Shion took a photo of them when they finally became ‘official.’ It was Shion’s favourite birthday. A number of cherry cakes had been consumed.
  2. **Nezumi feeding the mice** , dated _November 17, 2012_ – Karan had extra muffins, so he gave some to Nezumi. Nezumi, though he would never admit it, loves spoiling his pets.
  3. **A facepalming Nezumi wearing an apron and a bandana, with Karan smiling beside him** , dated _October 31, 2013_ – It was Halloween, so Karan enlisted the help of his boys to bake Halloween-themed cookies. The boys helped her countless times already, but Karan’s wearing a gag apron saying ‘My son has a boyfriend. Deal with it.’ (Nezumi’s not sure if that was just Karan’s way of teasing them, or if she actually wants to wear it. He doesn’t want to know the truth.)
  4. **Shion and Inukashi with a dog wearing a party hat, looking at a small cake with a candle in front them** , dated _May 25, 2014_ – Shion threw a party for this corgi that was left abandoned in Inukashi’s shelter. He decided that the dog’s birthday be the day after. Inukashi and Nezumi rolled their eyes.
  5. **Safu holding Shion’s hands as she teaches him how to skate** , dated _December 28, 2014_ – Safu only wanted to go with Shion, so Shion told Nezumi to not come with them. But he followed them, which irritated Safu, so she ordered him to take a photo of them doing a cute couple-y thing just to spite him. Nezumi wanted to throw the picture away, but Shion vetoed it, because in the end, Safu is a really good person, and a good best friend for Shion. Not that he’ll admit it.
  6. **Shion, Nezumi, and Safu during their high school graduation, accompanied by Karan and Safu’s grandmother** , dated _March 5, 2015_ – At first, it was just Shion and Karan. Then Karan invited Nezumi to join. Then Safu thought that she and her grandma should be in the photo as well.
  7. **Inukashi and Nezumi before attempting to punch one another, and Rikiga trying to subdue the fight, surrounded by tons of boxes** , dated _March 10, 2015_ – For some reason, Inukashi moved to Tokyo after Shion and Nezumi graduated. They set up a new shelter, and Shion and Nezumi ended up renting a nearby flat. Rikiga got hired in a newspaper company at Tokyo, and decided to drop by to see how Shion was doing so he could “tell Karan.” Little did he know that he’d end up moving boxes and stopping a fight.
  8. **Nezumi sitting on a chair with Shion behind him** , dated _March 5, 2016_ – a photo Shion took with his Polaroid before Nezumi’s first drama performance in uni
  9. **Kou, her senpai from Iwatobi named Makoto, and Nezumi (resentfully) washing dogs in Inukashi’s shelter** , dated _April 16, 2016_ – Kou brought her senpai to the shelter for the third time. He seemed like a really nice guy who got along well with everyone, even Nezumi.



**xxx---xxx---xxx---xxx**

**August 2, 2016, 8:01 PM**  
**From:** Nezumi♥  
**Message:** i’m bored why do you need to overtime it’s just a summer job

 **August 2, 2016, 8:02 PM**  
**To:** Nezumi♥  
**Message:** Just a few more minutes. I’m going to grab some pizza.

 **August 2, 2016, 8:04 PM**  
**From:** Nezumi♥  
**Message:** good. pizza. standard food for, you know, netflix and chill >:]

 **August 2, 2016, 8:05 PM**  
**To:** Nezumi♥  
**Message:** How about NatGeo and sleep?

 **August 2, 2016, 8:06 PM**  
**From:** Nezumi♥  
**Message:** you need to spend more time on the internet.

 **August 2, 2016, 8:08 PM**  
**To:** Nezumi♥  
**Message:** Says the one who’s always complaining when I spend too much time on my laptop. And what that does have to do with NatGeo?

 **August 2, 2016, 8:08 PM**  
**From:** Nezumi♥  
**Message:** smh -_-

 **August 2, 2016, 8:09 PM**  
**To:** Nezumi♥  
**Message:** Kids these days and their cryptic words

**xxx---xxx---xxx---xxx**

_August 2, 2016, 9:09 PM_

A tenth photo found its way on their corkboard:

  1. **Shion and Nezumi’s feet propped up on the table with a box of pizza on the side, and the telly showing glaciers of ice and NatGeo’s logo** , dated _August 2, 2016_ – Shion insisted on watch something on said channel, but halfway through the documentary, Shion fell asleep, his head falling on Nezumi’s shoulder. Nezumi decided that it was a nice moment and took a photo of their feet.



Nezumi turned the television off, and while he prefers to sleep on their bed, he decided that where he currently is, is more than enough.

 

 

**VIII.**

_September 7, 2016, 7:03 PM_

Nezumi took the day off work and hurried to the restaurant where he’s supposed to meet Shion. He’s not the (fancy) restaurant type, and even more not the wear-semi-formal-to-date type, but he wanted to do something nice for Shion for a change.

Even if Shion did assure him that he needn’t do anything more, because everything he does is more than enough for him.

But Nezumi disagrees. Sure, Shion was really happy with that mice mobile phone charm he gave him last March, but _come on Nezumi, couldn’t you give the love of your life a better gift_?

Shion is more than the love of his life—he’s the one who saved him all those years ago from the darkness that threatened to consume him. If it weren’t for him, Nezumi would most probably be alone with nothing but his hatred for the world, cynicism and pessimism slowly devouring him until he dies.

So there he was, sitting on a chair in a restaurant wearing a black blazer over a white V-neck shirt, his nicest pair of dark blue jeans, and a pair of black dress shoes that he has never worn since his high school graduation. His fingers keep drumming on the table, and his leg won’t stop squirming until he feels a familiar touch on his shoulder.

“Sorry to keep you waiting. My group mates ran into trouble when we were packing up,” Shion said as he sat down opposite him, “Have you already ordered something?”

Nezumi stared at the man sitting in front of him. He was smiling—just as he always was—and wearing a sky blue jumper over a white button-down.

Sometimes, he can’t believe that Shion chose him. He still can’t. Shion often said that _Nezumi, you’re really beautiful_ , but with Shion’s smile directed at him like Nezumi hung the moon or some cliché like that, Nezumi can’t help but think that Shion is the beautiful one.

“No,” he said, rather breathlessly, “I was waiting for you.”

“Let’s get some food, shall we?” the other said.

**x.x.x.x**

“You don’t really have to do this, you know,” Shion said between bites of _chicken pesto fettuccine with bacon and scrambled egg strips_.

“I want to do something nice for you,” Nezumi said, “Just... Let me. Please?”

“Okay,” Shion said, and added jokingly, “Just make sure that there’s no singing and string quartet.”

Nezumi scoffed. “I may be trying to do something that you’ll love, but that’s just crossing the line.”

Shion laughed. “I know, I know. I prefer your singing anyway.”

**xxx---xxx---xxx---xxx**

 

_September 7, 2016, 8:32 PM_

“I really enjoyed today,” Shion said when they were walking home, “But I can see how uncomfortable you are.”

“I’m not—”

“Yes you are. And next time, don’t try to make me happy if you aren’t comfortable with it. Don’t try to be something that you are not. You’re not the dinner date type, and I respect that. And honestly, I’d prefer it if we just watch _The Sound of Music_ while eating pizza. I’d take that any time over gourmet meals.”

“Shion—”

“I’m not done yet, so stop interrupting me,” Shion said, and he stood in front of Nezumi, “What I’m trying to say is, stop trying. You make me happy even when you’re not trying. Just sleeping next to you, waking up next to you, walking next to you, eating next to you... I’m really happy just being by your side. You’re more than enough, Nezumi, and I don’t need grand gestures just to feel that you care for me.”

He held Nezumi’s face between his and continued, “After four years of being together, I thought that you would have already realised this by now. Stop spending too much effort. You don’t need any effort to please me. Just your mere existence, and knowing that you love me back, is all I need. You understand?”

Nezumi nodded, his face still framed between Shion’s gentle hands. “I love you,” he croaked, “And happy birthday.”

“I love you too. And thank you.”

“You’re wrong about one thing though.”

“Huh?”

“It’s five. It’s five years by now.”

“Five...? Oh. Oh!”

“Happy anniversary, Shion.”

“...Happy anniversary, Nezumi.”

They both chuckled, and they walked home hand-in-hand under the moon, past the store that sells Shion’s favourite takoyaki, past Inukashi’s shelter, and past the lady at the front desk of their apartment complex. They went home and watched something on National Geographic, where they kissed instead of actually watching, and, for the nth time, fell asleep on the couch, holding each other.

 

 

**IX.**

_October 31, 2016, 8:15 PM, Nezumi and Shion’s living room_

“So... What are you supposed to be?” Nezumi asked Safu.

“OMG Nezumi, you can’t just ask people what they’re supposed to be!” Kou exclaimed.

“I’m asking because I don’t know. Is that a wasp? A fucking hornet?”

“I’m _the_ Queen Bee,” Safu said, “And really, Nezumi, putting on some mouse ears while wearing regular clothes isn’t a costume.”

“Just stayin’ true to my namesake,” Nezumi said, walking away from the two, “And blame Shion. He made me wear these.”

 **xxx---xxx---xxx---xxx**

_October 31, 2016, 8:15 PM, Nezumi and Shion’s kitchen_

“That’s a really nice costume, Kou-chan! It complements you hair,” Shion said.

“Oh, thank you. Haruka-senpai helped me with this. He initially wanted the mermaid version of Ariel, but I _insisted_ with the human version,” Kou replied, twirling as she hummed _Part of Your World_.

**xxx---xxx---xxx---xxx**

_October 31, 2016, 8:16 PM, in front of the door to Nezumi and Shion’s flat_

“Where’s your costume?” Rikiga asked, holding a bottle of wine.

“Are you blind? I’m wearing a costume!” Inukashi snarled. The two dogs at their heel growled.

“Really? Because I don’t think that a dog wearing a dog costume counts as a costume...”

“That’s rich coming from a pimp who wears outrageous outfits every day,” Inukashi countered.

“You little fu—”

The door suddenly opened, revealing a smiling Shion. “Oh great, you two are finally here. Come inside!”

Rikiga, upon seeing Shion, forgot that he was about to attack Inukashi. “Here, take this wine. You’re finally of drinking age!”

Shion stared apprehensively at the wine. Both him and Nezumi drink, but only on occasions. They don’t hate alcohol, but they don’t exactly like it either. If he gives it to Inukashi, they’ll most likely not accept, because they’re not on good terms with Rikiga. And because he’s too nice for his own good, Shion accepted the bottle (with a slight apprehension). Maybe he can give it to his neighbours or something.

**xxx---xxx---xxx---xxx**

_October 31, 2016, 8:23 PM, Nezumi and Shion’s kitchen_

“Hey hot stuff, can I get your number?” Nezumi said, “You’re pretty sexy for a mummy.”

“Sorry, but I already have a boyfriend, Mr. Mouse,” Shion replied, “And could you please bring these onion rings to our guests?”

**xxx---xxx---xxx---xxx**

_October 31, 2016, 9:37 PM, Nezumi and Shion’s living room_

“THIS IS HALLOWEEN THIS IS HALLOWEEN PUMPKINS SCREAM IN THE DEAD OF NIGHT THIS IS HALLOWEEN EVERYBODY MAKE A SCENE TRICK OR TREAT TILL THE NEIGHBOURS GONNA DIE OF FRIGHT,” Nezumi sang.

“Shion, could you please fucking stop that rodent?” Inukashi said over Nezumi’s loud voice, “I’m trying to enjoy the movie!”

“I’m really sorry, but he loves this song,” he replied, and said in a grave tone, “He can’t be stopped.”

Inukashi, defeated, slumped back on the couch and tried to watch _The Nightmare Before Christmas_ despite Nezumi singing along.

“I AM THE ONE HIDING UNDER YOUR BED TEETH GROUND SHARP AND EYES GLOWING RED I AM THE ONE HIDING UNDER YOURS STAIRS FINGERS LIKE SNAKES AND SPIDERS IN MY HAIR,” Nezumi continued.

Inukashi rolled their eyes.

**xxx---xxx---xxx---xxx**

_October 31, 2016, 10:12 PM, Nezumi and Shion’s living room_

The wine bottle didn’t reach their neighbours, because Rikiga insisted on opening the wine because, “we’re having a party! What’s a party without alcohol?”

And so, Nezumi’s non-stop singing _almost_ turned into a drunken karaoke face-off. Almost.

Safu was the first one to challenge Nezumi. “If I win—hic!—then you gotta stop singing. And—hic!—break-up with Shion.”

“Not posssssibleee, I dun seeee how you can—hic!—beat meeeee,” Nezumi slurred.

“This is why the alcohol is a bad idea,” Shion said, “Kou-chan, Inukashi, Rikiga-san, can you help me stop them? Then let’s sober them up.”

**xxx---xxx---xxx---xxx**

_November 1, 2016, 9:59 AM, Nezumi and Shion’s room_

“ _Jesus H. Christ_ ,” Nezumi said, head pounding and feeling like a cotton. And when he realised that he has a hoarse voice, “Fucking hell.”

“There’s a glass of water and aspirin on the bedside table,” Shion said as he entered the room with a towel slung over his hips, “I prepared a greasy breakfast, too. There’s also ginger ale in the fridge for your voice.”

Nezumi took the aspirin and downed the glass of water. “What would I do without you?”

“Probably no one.”

“...It’s too early for jokes, Shion.”

“I know, I know. Now hurry up and let’s eat.”

Shion took the towel off and put on his clothes. If Nezumi wasn’t so hungover, he’d probably pop a boner and initiate a round or two of morning sex, but the pounding in his head refused to be ignored.

Defeated, he headed to the kitchen where his breakfast awaited.

“Care for a blowjob once you get better?” Shion asked.

Just the thought of coital activities is more than enough for Nezumi’s hangover to go away.

Well, almost.

 

 

**X.**

_December 25, 2016, 7:21 AM_

“Good morning Shion, Nezumi,” Karan greeted when she saw them descend the stairs, “Come have your breakfast.”

The boys sat down, murmuring sleepy good mornings. They both drank a cup of hot coffee and ate their breakfast—English muffin, eggs, bacon, and sausages.

“Mum, aren’t you going to join us?” Shion asked, a bit more awake now that the caffeine was in his system.

“Oh, I already ate,” she replied, tying her apron, “And once you two are done, come help me in the kitchen, okay?”

“Okay,” Shion replied.

Half an hour later, Karan was directing her boys to _please knead the dough, Nezumi_ and _don’t forget the baguettes in the oven, Shion!_ and _stop playing with the icing!_ and _having the two of you away in uni put you out of practise, eh?_

**xxx---xxx---xxx---xxx**

_December 25, 2016, 9:00 PM_

The whole day was a non-stop influx of customers wanting to buy breads and cakes or whatever treats for their loved ones. The cherry cake, as usual, was a bestseller, but Karan was also offering sweets and treats exclusive for that day, which the entire neighbourhood clamoured for. The children were especially ensnared by gingerbread houses.

Nezumi and Shion spent the whole day helping Karan bake, manning the counter, and entertaining the guests. Shion told his mother for what seemed like the millionth time to get some extra hands for the shop, but Karan shot him down each time. “Lili helps me sometimes,” she’ll say, “And I can still handle the shop all by myself, so don’t you worry.”

So by the time closing time arrived, when everything has been locked down and wiped clean, the three sat down for dinner consisting of leftover croissants and heated soup because no one had the energy to make something new.

They’re all exhausted, but they still haven’t exchanged presents. Karan gave her boys their gifts and kissed their foreheads, wishing them a Happy Christmas.

“Happy Christmas too, Mum,” Shion said at the same time Nezumi said, “Happy Christmas, Karan.”

“Do I need to wait for the time when you’ll marry my son so you finally call me Mum?” she asked, sending Nezumi blushing and Shion spluttering.

She giggled at her boys’ reaction.

Shion and Nezumi gave her their gifts. She then bid them goodnight and went back to her room, smiling to herself because she knows that her most favourite people in the world don’t need a gift; they already had each other, and it’s more than enough.

 

 

**XI.**

_December 28, 2016, 7:59 AM_

“Today’s breakfast is potato dill frittata with Vermont white cheddar hollandaise[1], and Fortnum & Mason’s Breakfast Blend tea,” Sebastian said as he placed the food in front of his young master.

“Aren’t we a little too old to be playing Earls & Butlers?” Ciel asked, nevertheless drinking the proffered tea.

“My, my, the Young Master isn’t young anymore.”

“I’m just 21[2]. I’m still young.”

“But you look like a 13-year old that your age hardly makes a difference.”

Ciel narrowed his eyes. “Out of my sight.”

Sebastian chuckled. “Woke up on the wrong side of the bed, my Lord?”

“I woke up _on the floor_ because someone kept tossing and turning!”

Sebastian, wanting to ignore his young lord’s tantrums, dodged him by saying, “I’ll be in the parlour then. Make sure you finish your breakfast!”

**xxx---xxx---xxx---xxx**

_December 28, 2016, 9:39 AM_

The tea drowned away Ciel’s bad mood, and almost an hour and a half later, he came to the parlour and snuggled beside Sebastian. He placed his head against Sebastian’s shoulder, his hands snaking around the other’s arm, while his lithe body stretched like a cat.

“Is there anything you want, Young Master?” Sebastian asked, placing his reading glasses and book on the table.

“Why would you assume that I want anything?” Ciel said, rubbing his face on Sebastian’s neck.

“You would never willingly offer yourself like that. Now, my Lord, what is it that you want me to do?”

“ _Tch_ ,” Ciel muttered, removing himself away from Sebastian, “I want you to tell me something.”

“Oh?” Sebastian said, tilting his body so that he faced Ciel, “And what that might be? It must be something obscure for it to have escaped your knowledge.”

“Not really. I want you to tell me what is going to be our next production.”

“Couldn’t you wait until classes resume?”

“No.”

Sebastian smirked. “A child, indeed.”

Ciel glared at Sebastian for what seemed like the umpteenth time that day.

“Very well, my Lord. But would you please care to tell me why are you so eager to know?”

“So I could study the script in advance.”

“You’re really determined to get a gold star, eh?”

“People think that I obtain my gold stars because I have personal relations with Aunt Frances or Grell, or even the _reapers_ in the admin. But I couldn’t care less about what they think; I simply want to crush them using my skills.”

“Are you sure that it doesn’t have to do with me doting over you in class?”

“Doting? If _favourite student to torment, pick on, and embarrass_ translates to ‘doting’, then yes, you do love to ‘dote’ on me.”

Sebastian sighed. “You seem to hate me a lot these days.”

“Only because you’re acting like a _real_ demon. And answer my question!”

“Your question? Oh, what is your class doing for the next production, is it not?”

Ciel glowered, impatience evident in the tapping of his foot.

“Very well,” Sebastian said, “It’s High School Musical. You know, the one with the Wildcats and singing. Better exercise your vocal chords and get ready to ‘bop to the top’.”

The not-earl stopped in his tracks and stared disbelievingly at the not-butler.

“Are you kidding me?” he asked, voice dangerously toneless.

“I never lie, Young Master,” Sebastian said with a smirk.

“B-but—You said—The curriculum—”

“Ms. Midford is going to be the director, yet again, of this production. And unlike the previous semester’s Cinderella, this time, the roles are going to be decided by the director herself. And as far as I know, she thinks that the role of Gabriella must go to Nezumi—he’s a talented man, as I know that you would confirm—and Troy should be… you, my Lord.”

A scene of him as Troy Bolton and his classmate Nezumi as Gabriella Montez singing the passionate duet of _Can I Have This Dance_ briefly flashed across his mind, causing him to shudder.

(Never mind that he knows the song, or all the songs from the High School Musical franchise for that matter. Sebastian made sure that he knew all of them.)

Sebastian further said, “You would have to kiss, but Nezumi’s partner Shion is an understanding person and not the jealous type, so you wouldn’t have to worry for a repeat incident of what happened during your second year in high school.”

If anything, Ciel almost felt actual ice cubes chilling his spine.

“Young Master, are you all right? You don’t seem to be feeling well.”

“Nezumi—Kiss—High School Musical—”

And then, Sebastian laughed. Not just a simple laugh, but a full-on guffaw with tears of mirth in his eyes and arms clutched around his waist.

“I’m just kidding,” he said, trying to compose himself, “Ms. Midford wouldn’t tell me what your next production is.”

Ciel stopped panicking. Instead, he glared daggers at Sebastian and said in a tone dripping of venom, “I thought you never lied.”

“Oh, I never lie. I, however, jest.”

Ciel walked up to him, stood on his tiptoes, and placed his hands on the other’s shoulders. “I hope you enjoy your month-long sexual abstinence, _Professor Michaelis_.”

Sebastian’s face fell. “Surely, you’re lying, my Lord?”

“Oh, I never lie. I, however, jest,” Ciel repeated, leaving Sebastian to regret his life choices.

**xxx---xxx---xxx---xxx**

**Omake**

_December 28, 2016, 7:42 PM_

Every time he stays in Shion’s room at Karan’s place, Nezumi sleeps on the futon because Shion’s bed is too small for them. But sometimes, Shion would ignore his bed and sleep on the futon with Nezumi because it’s big enough for the two of them.

Such is the case on this particular December night, when the tiny telly in Shion’s room is showing High School Musical.

“You’d make a good Sharpay,” Shion commented, “You’re both attention-loving drama queens.”

“Drama queen—”

“See what I mean? You’d make a _perfect_ Sharpay. Actually, you’d be more than enough.”

Nezumi rolled his eyes.

“Oh, and can you sing _I Want It All_ for me? I can sing Ryan’s parts, even though my voice isn’t as good as yours.”

Sometimes, there’s just no stopping Shion.

 

 

**XII.**

_January 20, 2017, 6:30 PM_

On the occasion that Shion gets to go home earlier than usual, sometimes, he heads up to Nezumi’s place of work. However, that isn’t technically correct, because Nezumi doesn’t technically work there. He’s more like a volunteer who gets an allowance, because the owner of the place “couldn’t possibly have a student working for four hours a day”.

The owner only takes full-time workers, because they said that when they were in uni, they were a part-timer in a fast food chain and _It. Was. Hell_. They don’t want students to experience the same.

But Nezumi said, “If you don’t want me to work here part-time, at least let me volunteer and give me an allowance. I need money for uni and this is the only place that I can work without losing my mind.”

Every job in the world requires dealing with people, but at least in this bookstore-slash-record store, there is minimal human interaction, and Nezumi gets to deal with books.

(The owner didn’t want to take him in, but Nezumi had been persistent. Besides, he’s good with books; even better than his full-time workers.)

So there was Shion on a Friday evening, sometimes helping out in the store, but more often than not, reading to the kids. He usually reads ‘classics for children,’ and tonight, the kids requested _Through the Looking-Glass_ because they have “just finished reading the first book in class.”

Shion began to read the book. There were five kids listening to him, but the other two looked bored. One of the kids, Ai-chan, seemed to be indifferent about literature in general, but the other, Conan-kun, _loves_ mystery books. One time, he read _The Hound of the Baskervilles: Abridged for Children_ to the kids, but Conan-kun insisted with shining eyes and an eager voice that Shion read the unabridged version because “it’s so much better!”

“But Conan-kun, the language of this novel was intended for adults. It might be too hard for you to understand.”

“Conan-kun is unusually smart,” one of the kids, Mitsuhiko-kun, said, “He’s already read all of those Sherlock Holmes stories—the actual version, not the one for kids.”

“And he can also read kanji characters like an adult,” another one of the children, Ayumi-chan, said.

The last of the kids, Genta-kun, added, “He also helps the police solve cases. Sometimes, I think that Conan-kun is actually an adult who somehow got shrunken into a kid.”

Shion doesn’t know, but that statement from Genta-kun made Conan-kun shudder. He ignored it, and told him, “You are a very intelligent person, aren’t you, Conan-kun?”

“T-t-t-thank you,” Conan said, and if Shion weren’t so focused on him, he might have noticed Ai-chan smirking.

He had read about ten pages of _Through the Looking Glass_ when from behind him, Nezumi said, “Your reading’s improving a little, but it’s still not as good as mine.”

“Go away Nezumi, I’m reading to the kids,” Shion said. He was about to continue to read aloud but Nezumi snatched the book away from him and read instead.

The kids were awed. Ayumi, Mitsuhiko, and Genta at least, because after having gotten over their initial amazement, Conan and Ai reverted to their bored looks.

“That was amazing, Nezumi-oniichan!” Ayumi said after he read five more pages, “But please don’t be mean to Shion-oniichan.”

“Adults should serve as an example to children, yet I don’t think that stealing the book away from Shion-oniisan is a good example for us kids,” Mitsuhiko said.

“I think Shion-oniichan would forgive you if you give him unajuu,” Genta said.

Nezumi glared at the three children, and the children hid behind Shion.

“Shion-oniichan,” Ayumi said from behind him, “Why are you friends with such a scary person?”

“Just ignore him, Ayumi-chan,” Shion said, “He’s a bit stressed from his classes and work.”

Which is true, because between his classes, work, and Shion, Nezumi has rehearsals to top it all. Nezumi plays Iago from Shakespeare’s _Othello_. This isn’t the first time that he had the role of a male and/or antagonist, but this is the first time that his classmates will see him play a male role. Shion knows that Nezumi wants to prove to his classmates that he can play any role, and the gold stars awarded to him aren’t just for show.

(He can vaguely remember Nezumi telling him about his classmate Ciel, who seemed way too relieved upon hearing that they’ll be performing Othello. Nezumi told him that it might just be his imagination or not, but the Phantomhive kid seemed to be muttering, “Thank the devils it’s not High School Musical, thank the devils it’s not High School Musical, thank the devils it’s not High School Musical…”)

“But more importantly,” Shion said, turning to Nezumi, “Shouldn’t you be attending to the counter?”

Nezumi clucked his tongue, gave an exaggerated bow, and said, “As you wish, Your Highness.”

When Nezumi was gone, Ayumi tugged on the hem of his shirt. He bent down to Ayumi’s level and she whispered, “Are you a prince in disguise, Shion-oniichan? Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.”

Shion giggled. “Of course not, Ayumi-chan,” he said. He looked to where Nezumi is, standing behind the cashier and punching in the customer’s order. He smiled, and said fondly, more to himself than to anyone, “He just likes to call me that sometimes.”

Ayumi said, with wonder in her voice, “You must really like Nezumi-oniichan, even if he’s scary and mean.”

He wants to come up to the counter and kiss Nezumi’s cheek, because, really, just his mere existence is more than enough to give him a rush of emotions, but he knows that he can’t because there are kids watching.

“Yes, Ayumi-chan. I really, really like him.”

 

 

**XIII.**

_March 15, 2017, 9:30 AM_

They don’t always wake up in each other’s arms. Sometimes, Nezumi has 8 AM classes and Shion has 10 AM classes, and sometimes, it’s the other way around. On days like that, the flat would feel a little empty, so Shion would hurry to eat breakfast, get his day started, and wait for the time to pass by so he can see Nezumi again, because at the end of the day, the person that he wanted to see the most is Nezumi, and it would be more than enough.

**xxx---xxx---xxx---xxx**

_March 15, 2017, 1:02 PM_

“Shion, don’t you have enough clothes?” Safu asked over lunch. With Safu being a psychology major (going on to neurology) and Shion being an ecology major, they don’t have the same classes anymore, and the only time that they can spend time together is outside their classes.

“Huh? Why?” Shion asked after swallowing his food.

“Your shirt…”

“My shirt?” he asked, looking at the yellow-green long-sleeved shirt that he wore.

“That’s Nezumi’s, isn’t it?”

“Oh. Yes. I was in a hurry this morning, so I grabbed the first article of clothing that I could find. Don’t worry, Safu. I have enough clothes. My living situation doesn’t deprive me of the basic needs in life.”

Safu frowned. It looks like the competition got another point.

“What’s the matter? Are you not feeling well?”

“It’s nothing. Now, where were we?”

**xxx---xxx---xxx---xxx**

_March 15, 2017, 8:42 PM_

“I’m home!” Shion announced as he opened the door to their flat.

“You’re late,” Nezumi said from the couch.

“Have you eaten? I brought Thai,” Shion said, and placed the food on the table. He took the packages out and handed one to Nezum.

Nezumi stood up. “I’m not hungry,” he said, and made his way to their bedroom, slamming the door shut.

Shion sighed. He knew that this was coming.

**x.x.x.x**

“Nezumiiiiiiiiiiiii,” he said, “The food’s going to get cold.”

Nezumi lay on the bed facing the wall. Shion was prodding his back, but he remained silent.

“I did tell you that I was coming home late. We never had problems whenever one of us had to come home late. We’re both busy, after all.”

He received no answer.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with you. I was just out with Safu and—Oh, that’s it, isn’t it? Because I was out with my _best friend_?”

“She doesn’t see you as just a friend!” Nezumi said, suddenly springing up, “She _loves_ you, okay? Don’t you get it?”

“Why does that matter? Do you really think that I’ll leave you? Or don’t you just trust me?”

“It’s not that!” Nezumi said, burying his face in his hands, “It’s not that…”

Shion knelt in front of the other. He took Nezumi’s hands in his, rubbing soothing circles on his palms. He softly said, “Then what is it? Because this… rivalry between you and Safu has been going on for as long as I can remember.”

Nezumi dropped his head on Shion shoulders. The latter wrapped his hands around the former. He rubbed his back, and occasionally ran his hands through the other’s hair.

“Sorry,” Nezumi said, “I was just… jealous.”

“You know that you can’t go on like that forever.”

“But she loves you. I have a right to be jealous.”

“Yes, you have every right, but do you really have to be? What about your classmates or fellow members from the Lit Club who have a crush on you? Do you see me throwing a fit every time they glance at you?”

“This is different…”

“How?”

“…It just is.”

“Does it make sense to you?”

“No.”

“That’s how I feel. It doesn’t make sense for me either. Now, Nezumi, look at me,” Nezumi did, and Shion continued, “I’m not going to leave you. Do you understand? Even when we’re fighting, I’d never leave you. Even when I’m mad at you, or you at me, or even if you keep stealing my food, I’d never leave you. Isn’t that what I promised you when you came back? I’m not going to let you go again so easily.”

Nezumi’s absence is a taboo topic for the both of them. It only lasted for a year, and when Nezumi came back, they talked about what he did, how Shion felt, and how it affected the two of them. They talked about it, but they never discussed it again, because neither one of them wanted to revisit the anguish of a year-long estrangement.

“I’m sorry, Shion,” Nezumi said.

“Don’t worry about it. We both have our own shortcomings. But you have changed for the better. Five years ago, you wouldn’t talk to me for a week if this happened.”

And that was true. Nezumi came a long way. They both came a long way. Nezumi became kinder (though still rough), and Shion a little more knowledgeable about the inner workings of the world, even though he’s still a little bit dense and naïve at times.

“Now, let’s eat some dinner, okay?”

Nezumi nodded. Shion hauled him up, and even though the living room is just a few steps away from their bedroom, they still walked towards it with their hands clasped tightly in each other’s.

 

 

**XIV.**

_March 16, 2017, 3:02 PM_

“Like I’m telling you… I can’t move,” Nezumi said scathingly, pointing to a sleeping Shion. Specifically, a sleeping Shion with his head on Nezumi’s lap, covered in Nezumi’s biker jacket. The month of March is still pretty chilly, but the idiot, having overslept because of an all-nighter, hurried to get to class, forgetting his brown outer coat as a result. Nezumi sat on the grass against a tree in the campus grounds, and because he’s outside and Shion has his jacket, he has nothing left for himself to use to fend against the chilly air but his superfibre scarf.

“What do you mean you can’t?” his classmate asked, voice equally menacing.

Nezumi respected his classmate’s talent, but he can never respect that damned Phantomhive brat’s attitude.

He clucked his tongue. “You only have one eye covered, which means that you’re not completely blind, yet you fail to see the reason why I can’t move.”

“If you mean that person sleeping on your lap, yes, I can see him very well, even if I only have one eye. What I fail to understand is why can’t you just wake him up.”

It’s true that Nezumi could just rouse Shion, but the latter only had two hours of sleep. In addition to their (small) domestic earlier this week and a truckload of homework, projects, and presentations, Shion barely had enough time to eat, let alone sleep. The poor guy is working himself to death.

“You’re going to lose a gold star if you don’t move. If you lose one, your spot in the top three might go to someone else.”

Nezumi will indeed lose a gold star if he doesn’t get his ass moving, but he doubts that anyone would take his place so easily. He currently has the lowest number of gold stars in the top three (even though Phantomhive is only ahead by one and Kanata by three). Still, his gold stars amount to 17. The highest number of gold stars from someone in his class has who doesn’t belong to the top 3 are 10. He still has 7 more, but he can’t let his guard down. One failure and his spot in the top three is gone, and it’s going to be bye-bye Manhattan Theatre Club internship.

“Can it wait?” he asked, looking for a compromise.

“Professor Miford needs you before 3:15, and if I don’t bring you to her before then, we’re both going to be in trouble.”

“Alright. Just give me eight more minutes.”

Ciel sighed. “Fine. But once your eight minutes are up, you need to come with me.”

**xxx---xxx---xxx---xxx**

_March 16, 2017, 3:10 PM_

“It’s been eight minutes,” Phantomhive said.

In the last few minutes, the brat had no choice but wait. They spent those eight minutes in silence since neither of them are the talkative or sharing-feelings type. Nezumi knew that Phantomhive would be fine, even if he didn’t talk to him (in fact, he might appreciate it more), but he had his left arm slung over Shion’s body in a protective way, while his right hand held a book aloft. Phantomhive, as he could feel, was stewing in awkwardness, and Nezumi revelled in his classmate’s discomfort.

“Shion, wake up,” he said, gently shaking the man.

Still, Shion did not rouse. He leaned down, gently shook him once more, and whispered to his ear, “Shion, wake up.”

He repeated this for a few more times. Phantomhive looked away, and Nezumi smirked to himself for making that brat feel ill at ease.

Slowly, Shion began to stir. He stood up, rubbed his eyes, and asked, “Nezumi? What time is it?”

Upon hearing that the man was finally awake, Phantomhive turned to the two and said, “3:12 PM. And we really need to go because our professor’s looking for us.”

Nezumi glared at Phantomhive. Shion might not have noticed it, but the latter was clearly threatening them.

“Oh? Is that so? I’m sorry to keep you waiting. Go ahead then,” Shion said sleepily.

“Are you sure that you’ll be fine?” Nezumi asked.

“Of course I will. I’ll just head home and wait for you,” he said, draping the jacket to its owner’s shoulders. He kissed Nezumi on the lips long enough to hear a loud coughing.

“Professor Midford is waiting for us,” Phantomhive said.

Shion pulled away. “Off you go then.”

“I’ll bring home dinner. What do you want?”

“Macbeth soup would be more than enough.”

Nezumi smiled. “I’ll see you later.”

Shion smiled back at him, and then he left.

 

 

**XV.**

_June 12, 2017, 10:11 AM_

“What shall we name her?” Shion asked Inukashi.

“Doge,” Nezumi said, stifling his laugh.

“You’re laughing, so there must be some horrible reason why you want me to name my dog ‘Doge’,” Inukashi replied, “But it’s also a dumb name, so I’ll ignore what you said. Now, Shion, do you have any ideas?”

“I can’t think of any… What about we ask Kou? Maybe she has ideas.”

Shion dialled Kou’s number on his phone. He put it on loudspeaker so his companions could hear it.

They were in the reception area of Inukashi’s shelter where someone, yet again, abandoned a puppy. Inukashi had been saving up for CCTV cameras so they could at least “have a good look at the assholes who abandon their dogs” and “beat them up, strip their skin, feed their carcasses to the maggots, and throw whatever remains in the ocean.”

The phone rang, and Kou picked up three seconds later.

“Hello? Shion-kun?” she said.

“Good morning, Kou! Are you busy?” Shion said.

“I’m not doing anything important. Why did you call?”

“Someone left a puppy at the shelter—”

“—Again?!”

“Yes. Inukashi is thinking of installing CCTV cameras to monitor who are abandoning these dogs. Anyway, what do you think shall we name this female shiba inu?”

“Hmmm… Let me see… What about—Onii-chan, don’t eat up all the cookies! Those are for Sousuke-kun!—Oh! Sorry about that. What about ‘Rin’?”

“Rin? But isn’t that the name of your older brother?”

“That’s exactly why I’m suggesting ‘Rin’.”

“That will do,” Inukashi said, “This new dog is going to be named Rin.”

“Oh hello, Inukashi!” Kou said, “ I might bring my brother and his friends to the shelter one of these days,” she turned away from the phone, but Inukashi and the others still heard her greet a certain Sousuke-kun. “I have to go now. See you later!”

And then she hung up.

“Inukashi,” Shion said, “The number of dogs in the shelter is increasing. Have you thought about hiring new people?”

“Hire new people? I don’t need to. I’ve already got you guys volunteering,” Inukashi replied.

“But we can’t volunteer every day, and I don’t think that you can handle all the dogs by yourself. How about we establish a volunteer program?”

“Volunteer program?”

“It’s summer, and there are people with a lot of free time. We can put up posters or ask our friends to come, and let the word travel by mouth. Then we’d have a lot volunteers and you won’t have to worry about taking care of everything yourself. Besides, the only people who’d want to volunteer in a dog shelter are dog lovers.”

Inukashi looked pensive. Their dogs are precious to them, and they think that they couldn’t just leave their dogs in the hands of virtual strangers. However, if they start with Shion’s friends, and even Kou and Makoto’s friends, then they’d see how well things could go, and maybe even open a regular volunteer program.

And just like what Shion said, only dog lovers would volunteer at a dog shelter, and that way, Inukashi would be assured that nothing bad would happen to their dogs.

“Do you have any plans?” they asked Shion.

**xxx---xxx---xxx---xxx**

_June 16, 2017, 9:00 AM_

Much to his delight, the kids that Shion had been reading to in Nezumi’s workplace, Conan-kun, Haibara Ai-chan, Ayumi-chan, Mitsuhiko-kun, and Genta-kun all wanted to volunteer for the dogs. They even brought some of their friends, which surprised Shion because he was completely expecting other elementary students, but no; they brought high school students and an adult with them. Professor Agasa, an “inventor who makes gadgets but are sometimes useless,” according to Mitsuhiko-kun, is the children’s unofficial chaperone. There’s also Ran-san, a karate champion and daughter of the famous detective Sleeping Kogoro (who Conan-kun is currently living with); Sonoko-san, Ran-san’s best friend who comes from a rich family; Sera-san, whom Shion completely mistook for a boy when she’s actually female (and is really skilled in jeet kune do); and their two friends from Osaka, Heiji-kun and Kazuha-san, who just happened to visit Conan-kun when the kids dragged them along to the shelter.

There’s also Kou’s older brother Rin-san (who just came back from Australia) and his friends Sousuke-san (who also came back from Australia), Makoto-san, Haruka-san, Nagisa-kun, Rei-kun, Nitori Ai-kun, Momo-kun, and Kisumi-san. (Shion noticed that Haruka-san had been glaring non-stop at Kisumi. He doesn’t know why, and he’s not sure that he wants to know why.)

All in all, including Inukashi, Shion, Nezumi, Safu (who is in a fight with Nezumi yet again), and Rikiga-san (who “only came for Shion”), there was a total of 26 volunteers that day. Inukashi’s shelter is fairly huge given the large number of canines that they take care of, but with 26 people in there that day, the place became a bit cramped. They could still move around, but bumping elbows became a common occurrence.

**x.x.x.x**

One of Inukashi’s conditions for this volunteer program is that Shion needs to be the one who would handle all the promotions and planning since “this was your idea.” Inukashi, however, will help in instructing the volunteers on how to the handle the dogs because “I simply wouldn’t entrust my family to strangers that easily.”

The volunteers came at 9 AM, as instructed. Because they didn’t fit in the reception area, Shion herded them into the backyard. Safu served tea and biscuits, while Shion and Inukashi stood in front of them, ready to conduct the orientation.

Nezumi, who, like Rikiga, only “came for Shion,” sat at the very back to avoid the throng of people, but mostly Safu. Predictably, Safu didn’t bother to give him the snacks she’d been handing out to everyone. He’d been involuntarily volunteering to help take care of Inukashi’s dogs, but only because Shion had been adamant in going to see Inukashi as often as he could. Around five years ago, he started out as a dog-washer, but in the years that went by, he has been promoted to be the unofficial vice chairman of the shelter. (Not that Inukashi devised a hierarchy though.)

“Good morning everyone,” Shion said, “Thank you all so much for coming here today. We have a lot of dogs in this shelter, and lately, Inukashi and my friends are having a hard time caring for all of them. Between the feeding, the washing, and exercising them, five of us is not enough to handle 147—and increasing—dogs. We have recently finished drafting up a volunteer program, and if today goes well, we might implement this program in the recent days to come.”

“What Shion is saying,” Inukashi said, “Is that you’re all the guinea pigs for this program. If this thing turns out to be successful, we’ll most likely use this program later on to find more volunteers. And I _will_ do a background check on all the volunteer applicants, because I’m not going to let my dogs be handled by people I don’t know anything about. All of you here know one of us one way or another, but it doesn’t mean that I won’t do a background check on all of you one of these days.”

(Somewhere in that group of people, Edogawa Conan and Haibara Ai suppressed a shudder. They doubt that Inukashi could uncover their real identities, but it doesn’t mean that there isn’t a possibility.)

“I’ll divide you all into four groups,” Inukashi continued, “Shion will be helping me monitor the activities. Each group will be composed of six members. Group 1 will be in charge of the washing. Group 2 will exercise the dogs by walking them or playing with them. Group 3 will feed the dogs. And the last one, Group 4, will clean the kennels. Group members will be determined by drawing lots.”

And so, the drawing of lots began. Group 1 (washing of the dogs) was composed of Makoto, Heiji, Genta, Ayumi, Sonoko, and Rin. Group 2 (exercising the dogs) was made up of Professor Agasa, Kisumi, Nitori Aiichiro, Ran, Nagisa, and Rikiga. Group 3 (feeding the dogs) was comprised of Kou, Safu, Mitsuhiko, Momo, Haibara Ai, and Haru. Group 4 (cleaning the kennels) consisted of Sousuke, Conan, Kazuha, Sera, Rei, and Nezumi.

For the next hours, Inukashi and Shion guided the (new) volunteers in the process of caring for the dogs and gave pointers about dog behaviour. They also lent a hand, especially when the distrustful dogs growled and bared fangs at the new faces. Thankfully, no incident which required hospital visits happened; only minor wounds, treatable by a little antiseptic, due to accidentally tripping on something or scraping their elbows on something rough.

In Group 1, Rin alternated in washing the dogs and having a one-sided water fight with Makoto. Makoto chided him, saying that this time was for washing the dogs, not in wasting water for silly fights. But Rin just ignored him and continued on pointing the hose at him. Makoto dodged, but the water hit Heiji, who was at his wit’s ends because a.) he didn’t want to be here; it’s not like he hates dogs, but he’d rather be solving mysteries with Kud—err, Conan, and b.) Kazuha went all puppy eyes on him, saying how she’d love to spend time with dogs. It didn’t help that Ran also went puppy eyes on Conan, and Conan really couldn’t refuse Ran when she ‘asked’ him like that. The two detectives didn’t have any choice but to tag along with their ladies. So there he was, washing some dogs, wishing for a case to turn up, when those two swimmers (from what he could tell from their conversation) wouldn’t stop playing with the hose. He got hit by the water square in the face (and thankfully not the chest because he didn’t bring spare clothes) and was about to yell at the two swimmers when Inukashi did the yelling for him. At least the two kids with him, Ayumi and Genta, were having fun. Sonoko, upon learning that someone from her group was named Makoto, regaled Tachibana Makoto stories about her karate champion boyfriend Kyogoku Makoto. 

In Group 2, Rikiga was saying how “beautiful” Ran was. Rikiga tried to touch her shoulders, but Ran told him that she was the captain of Teitan High School’s karate club by striking a menacing pose. Rikiga stopped talking to her, but he ogled her from time to time. Ran reminded him that her mother was a lawyer, and her father, the famous Sleeping Kogoro, was an expert in judo. She also mentioned how she knows a lot of police detectives in the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department, which effectively shut Rikiga up the moment he heard ‘police.’ Nagisa was too preoccupied by running around chasing the dogs; Kisumi was having so much fun playing with the dogs; and Nitori almost cried when a mean-looking Rottweiler barked at him. Inukashi informed Nitori that Rottweilers weren’t inherently dangerous, and that it was just barking because it has never seen him before. However, Nitori was still scared, so he just played with a shih tzu, who, thankfully, seemed to love him. Meanwhile, Professor Agasa, instead of actually exercising the dogs, was making plans for an invention that could be used to exercise the dogs. This earned him a reprimand from Inukashi, but Professor Agasa assured them that once he finishes this invention, he’d send out a few samples to the shelter.

In Group 3, Haru spent the entire time looking at Group 1. He didn’t have qualms about feeding the dogs, but he would rather feel the water on his hands. It doesn’t help that the combination of Makoto + water did, uh, things to him. (He’s going to thank Rin later for the way Makoto’s slightly wet shirt clung to his body.) He almost stripped, but Kou, who was in the same group, managed to stop him. He was also staring at Sonoko, but more out of wariness rather that jealousy. He went back to feeding the Labrador in front of him, who reminded him of Makoto with its friendliness. Safu, whom he met twice before when he visited the shelter with Makoto, was babbling about things that he couldn’t understand, to which the kid Mitsuhiko was so amazed of. Momo showered Kou with his affections, but Kou shut him down. Meanwhile, Haibara Ai, another kid in their group, ignored everybody and fed dog after dog. She seemed to revel in the attention that the furballs gave her.

In Group 4, Inukashi was having the time of their life witnessing Nezumi “removing his fellow shit” from the kennels. Nezumi motioned to hurl dog poop at them, but Shion glared at him before he could do so. “So fucking whipped, haha!” Inukashi laughed. Nezumi continued to glare daggers at them, but Shion rubbed his arms in the hopes of placating him. Rei was woefully talking about how cleaning kennels is “not beautiful!”, but nevertheless, still cleaned them. Conan was giving Rikiga the evil eye, and Nezumi suspected that Conan had a crush on Ran, who was a good ten years older than him. Meanwhile, Conan was plotting bloody murder on Rikiga, but he reminded himself that he _solved_ murders, not _caused_ them. Still, he was contemplating using his Power-enhancing Kick Shoes and Anywhere Ball Dispenser Belt to knock Rikiga out. Sera was telling Conan to “not let your emotions get the better of you,” Kazuha wanted to use her aikido on Rikiga for trying to harass Ran-chan, and Sousuke was gazing at Rin, probably captivated by his (pitifully drying) slightly wet clothes.

**xxx---xxx---xxx---xxx**

_June 16, 2017, 5:00 PM_

After every dog had been fed, washed, and exercised, and every kennel cleaned, the volunteers, along with Shion and Inukashi, waited for the pizza to be delivered. Because of how tired they were, they gobbled the pizza within minutes, and were now all sitting on chairs or laying on the ground resting.

“I think I’m going to continue implementing this volunteer program,” Inukashi said, voice soft from exhaustion.

“That’s great, Inukashi,” Shion said a little sleepily, “Let me know so I can help you with matters, okay?”

After a few more minutes, the volunteers got up. They thanked Inukashi and Shion for a fun and productive day, and promised to return if the occasion arised. However, Rin and Sousuke needed to return to Australia at the end of the summer, and might not come back until next June; Heiji and Kazuha would return to Osaka in a few days, but Kazuha (much to Heiji’s annoyance) promised to return if she ever visits Tokyo; and Rikiga, having been threatened with bodily harm, lawsuits, and police arrest for multiple times, “probably won’t come back again.”

At the end of the day, this event had been pretty successful, and later that night, Shion snuggled closer to Nezumi, tired but content of the day’s outcomes.

It would all come to this anyway: No matter what they do, or where they are, they would always end up in each other’s arms, and that would be more than enough.

 

 

**XVI.**

_July 2, 2017_

If Shion was asked to write an essay or article on _How Would You Relate the Five Ecological Relationships in Your Life_ , he’d probably write this:

  1. **Commensalism**



On lazy days where the both of us have the rights to wake up at any time of the day, we would probably stay in bed all day. Nezumi would read, but I would lie on his chest and never get up. He would tell me to move over so he can flip the pages, but I would refuse to move. Then he’d shove me aside, and he would lie on his side so he could read in peace, but I would spoon him.

And then his arms would fall asleep, so he’d leave our bedroom, go the living room, sit on the couch, and read there instead. And then I would follow and I would lie on his lap. I’d lie there for minutes—hours, even—until he’d tell me to get up and prepare breakfast. But his lap is so comfortable, and sometimes he’d ruffle my hair, so of course I don’t want to get up. But I would hear his stomach grumble, and then my stomach would grumble, so I’d have no choice but to prepare breakfast. So I’d pour some milk into two bowls of cereal, bring those bowls to the living room, and eat there. But he wouldn’t eat the food yet because he’s too busy reading, so I’d finish up my bowl while his becomes soggy. And when he’d finally eat his soggy cereal, he’d glare at me because “cereals are only eaten when we’re in a hurry. Is there even anyone who gets a full stomach from eating a bowl of cereal?” But I would ignore him and continue lying on his lap, just watching his face while he reads. And then he’d say that I’m a creeper, and he’d move to the storage room that he converted into a library where I, of course, would follow him. I’d continue to “pester” him (his words, not mine) by lying on his lap, latching on his arm, or taking photos of him with my Polaroid (which I would later hang on the corkboard above the couch) until he’d get tired of me. So he would read out loud, my chin over his shoulder and my arms around his waist, as he reads to me.

“ _Now Gandalf too said farewell. Bilbo sat on the ground feeling very unhappy and wishing he was beside the wizard on his tall horse. He had gone just inside the forest after breakfast...”_

Nezumi read out loud.

He doesn’t gain anything from reading out loud to me, nor is he harmed. In fact, I’m the only one benefitting here; having him so close to me and hearing his voice is more than enough, and more than I could I ask for. 

  1. **Mutualism**



You’d probably think that the best example of a moment where we’re both benefitting from each other is sex. Well, it’s true. He gives me a handjob, I’d blow him. He fucks me late at night, I’d wake him up by riding him. There’s also that position called 69, but we don’t really do that often. The point is, yes, we do benefit from each other at the same time during sex, but that’s not my favourite form of mutualism. Rather, it’s those nights in winter when the heater doesn’t seem to be working (even if it is) and we’re too cold to do anything but hold each other. We would sleep under the big, warm, and fluffy comforter, sharing body heat. In the mornings, we’d huddle under the kotatsu while sipping green tea and eating the biscuits my mum left when she visited us. (We push the couch and the coffee table to the side to make room for the kotatsu during winters. Sometimes, we even fall asleep under it while watching the telly!)

During one particular morning, we were sitting under the kotatsu eating a lunch of a warm bowl of ramen, delivered from the nearby store. We were watching a documentary about penguins on NatGeo when we heard a knock on the door.

“Get it,” Nezumi said, and then slurped his noodles.

“No, _you_ get it,” I said.

The knocking persisted. Nezumi told me to open the door, and I told him that he should do it instead. The kotatsu was so warm that we refused to get up.

“Shion?” Safu’s unmistakable voice from the other side of the door called.

Immediately, Nezumi sprung up. Knowing about the possibilities of things that could happen when you put Nezumi and Safu in the same room, I, too, hurried to the door, but Nezumi beat me to it.

“Well, well, if it isn’t His Highness’ most valued adviser,” Nezumi said.

Safu paid him no mind. He turned to me and said, “I was in the area—”

“Ha! Just admit that you weren’t ‘in the area’ and you came to our place straight from your dorm because you wanted to see him,” Nezumi disrupted. I elbowed him.

“—And I saw posters for an ice skating rink. Do you want to come with me right now?”

“Eh? Right now?” I asked. Safu is my dear friend, but thinking about the cosiness of the kotatsu and Nezumi’s warmth made me hesitant to leave.

“If you don’t want to right now, we can always go later,” she said.

“Okay, I’ll take a rain check on that,” I replied. I was about to invite her inside when she said that she needed to get going because “I really am in the area because I was running some errands, unlike what some rodent thinks.”

She left, and we went back to the kotatsu. There might be a hiccup in our lazing around in the cold winter air, but that was all forgotten under folds of the kotatsu. 

  1. **Predation**



Jealous Nezumi is a cute Nezumi. His jealousy never goes overboard (unless Safu is concerned). It’s really nice to see him get riled up for once. He’s usually stoic or nonchalant, but not indifferent to bouts of sarcasm, anger, and histrionics. But I really can’t understand why he gets worked up whenever someone flirts with me. Safu, I can understand; but who would think that a white-haired and red-eyed man with a red scar coiling around his body attractive? I know that Nezumi finds it, uh, “quite alluring” and “sexy” (again, his words, not mine), but that’s because it’s Nezumi, and isn’t it normal for two people in a relationship to find each other sexy?

One time, we were eating lunch at the university café. It was rush hour and most of the tables were occupied. However, there were two vacant chairs in front of us, and it was completely understandable when someone asked if she could sit on one of the vacant chairs.

“Please, go ahead,” I said, and she set down her tray of food on the table.

Nezumi continued talking about his complaints. “I swear, if Professor Sutcliff makes an innuendo at my expense one more time, I’ll hack his body into pieces and feed it to our mice.”

“I don’t think that our mice would want to eat a cadaver,” I said, “And remind me to get more food for them, okay? Our supply is running low.”

From the corner of my eye, I saw the girl look horrified. Maybe she thought that we’re a bunch of psychopaths for talking about cadavers and having pet mice.

“It’s because you feed them so much,” Nezumi said, “Have you seen Cravat? I think he looks fatter than he did last week.”

“I am feeding them just fine. It’s you who’s feeding them too much. I told you to stop giving them muffins!”

We continued on, bickering about our mice, which later turned into a heated discussion about tonight’s dinner, and then turned to my terror professor who would kick you out of the room if you don’t bring your handouts to her class.

We were getting ready to leave when Nezumi turned to the girl sitting opposite us.

“I noticed that you wouldn’t stop looking at him,” he said, making the girl turn red, “I thought that it was because of our earlier statement about cadavers and our pet mice, but you still continued staring at him. And then I thought that maybe it’s because of his appearance, and then it dawned on me. I’ve seen your expression a thousand times before. I’ve seen on girls giving me chocolates on Valentine’s or flowers after our productions. But I’m sorry to tell, Mademoiselle, but this guy is taken.”

The girl turned even redder. She looked like she’d rather have the earth swallow her whole than go on with the rest of her life. I reprimanded Nezumi, and told her, “I’m really sorry about him. He’s got a sharp tongue, but he’s actually a good guy. Please excuse us.”

I really felt sorry for the girl, so before Nezumi could cause any further damage, I tugged him outside the café, holding his hand as we walked the well-worn path to the garden, to rest under the trees.

He might be a dog that had just bared its fangs against a foreign entity, but I still have a hold on his leash. 

  1. **Parasitism**



During exams, I’d study in the living room, and Nezumi would study in our library. That’s how things are, and that is how things would always be. That way, we can focus on reviewing without disturbing the other.

There was one incident where I, after six long hours of nothing but studying, memorising, analysing, and highlighting sentences and paragraphs in my textbook, was getting ready for bed. I brushed my teeth, washed my face, and changed into pyjamas when Nezumi barged into the bedroom.

“Shion, I need you to do something for me,” he said.

“Huh?” I replied sleepily. I couldn’t think of anything but flopping down on the bed at that moment.

“Come,” Nezumi said, and grabbed me by the arm to the library.

He sat down in front of the upright and told me, “I need to run lines with you.”

It took my sleepy brain a minute to process what he just said. “But it’s one in the morning!” I complained, “I have an exam in six hours, and—”

Nezumi did his own version of puppy eyes. They’re not puppy eyes per se, but he looked like a damsel seducing a man with doe eyes and fluttering eyelashes.

“Fine,” I said.

Nezumi smirked. He handed me the script and said, “Say this line after I play the piano. Or in our case, the upright.”

Sometimes, Nezumi would ask me to run lines with him, and I’d gladly help him. But right now, at one in the morning, with my body screaming _sleep_ , it’s a wonder that Nezumi accepted my performance, because he’d usually say that my delivery was too flat or the tone of my voice not right.

But in the end, all that benefitted was Nezumi. Sure, I’m glad to help him, but only after I’ve had enough sleep.

  1. **Competition**



Safu is my best friend, and Nezumi is the love of my life, and it is gruelling to see them compete with each other over me.

Safu knows that I can never love her back _that_ way, and Nezumi knows that I wouldn’t leave him even if it killed me, but somehow, they still fight over my affections. I love them both to death, even if it’s different kinds of love; but I wish that Safu would stop hinting every now and then, and that Nezumi would no longer speak harshly about Safu.

Safu confessed to me when I was sixteen, the same day that Nezumi and I became ‘official.’ I honestly never knew that she loved me as more than a friend, until she told me that she wanted my sperm. (Even now, I shudder at the memory, and Nezumi laughs at my discomfort.)

Nezumi and I met when we were twelve. We were friends for two years, until he disappeared for a year without contact, and then came back when I turned 15. We’ve been inseparable ever since.

Safu knows the degree to which I love Nezumi, and Nezumi knows that I will never abandon my best friend. I wish they’d stop fighting. Every time they’re in the same room, some sort of contest happens—karaoke contest, eating contest, apple-bobbing contest... you name it. It pains me to see two of the most important people in my life not get along, but there’s not much that I can do about. It’s not like I haven’t tried to end their competition; it’s that they don’t want to.

It must hurt Safu to see me in Nezumi’s arms. Sometimes, I place myself in her position and think, “What if I’m Nezumi’s best friend, and then he falls in love with someone else, and then I’d see him get all couple-y with that someone?” I’d stop my thoughts at that because I couldn’t bear the thought of Nezumi being with someone who wasn’t me. Safu must feel that way. I feel sorry for her, and I hope that she gets over me. I’m sure that she’ll find someone who will love her the way I love Nezumi. She’s my best friend and I love her dearly, but it hurts me so much to see her suffering.

And as for Nezumi... I have him, and I couldn’t ask for more. Well, maybe ceasing whatever competition he has with Safu. Nezumi would never be a substitute for Safu, and Safu would never be a substitute for Nezumi. They’re equally important to me, and they’re both very kind to me. They’re both there when I’m down, when I need help with my studies, when I need someone to talk to. They’re always there for me, and I can never choose one between them, because I treasure them both.

This competition thing is not fun anymore, and it’s worrying me.

 

 

**XVII.**

_November 17, 2017, 2:49 PM_

Isana Yashiro held the file folder in the air and analysed the photo of a student named Shion attached to it. He then transferred his gaze to that Shion a few tables away. He did the same to the folder containing Nezumi’s photo and information.

“They really look a bit like us,” Shiro commented, “I daresay that our personalities are kind of alike, too.”

He took a bite of his cake, and gave the rest of it to Neko. Neko happily munched on the treat, and demanded that she wanted more.

“You just ate a whole cake this morning!” Kuroh said, “You must restrain your appetite.”

“Now, now, Kuroh,” Shiro said, “Let Neko be and look at your counterpart.”

And Kuroh did. Those two guys four tables away—Nezumi, drama major, and Shion, ecology major—sure looked a lot like them. Shiro said ‘a bit’, but to Kuroh, they might as well be twins.

“Aw, it seems like they’re also lovey-dovey like us!” Shiro said upon seeing Shion steal a kiss from Nezumi, which made the latter flustered.

Kuroh threatened to draw his sword.

“You’ll be in big trouble if you point your sword at me, the president of this university,” Shiro warned in a sing-song voice.

Kuroh put Kotowari back in its sheath. He smirked, saying, “I doubt that you’ll put me in trouble out of your own volition, my King.”

“Hm,” Shiro mumbled, “I think you’re right. Anyway, do you think that it’d be interesting to put the two of us, Shion-san and Nezumi-san, and those two criminology students Kanda Yuu and Allen Walker in the same room?”

Kuroh thought about the two students that Shiro mentioned, Kanda Yuu and Allen Walker. Shiro found out about them a few months ago, and has been regularly keeping up with them just because they looked a bit like him and Kuroh.

However, Kuroh thought of the possible outcome if you put three identical pairs in the same room, and decided that the results would not be good. “Stop playing games and focus on your work.”

Shiro pouted, and looked to Shion and Nezumi instead. They were getting up to leave when a redheaded girl approached them. From where he sat, Shiro couldn’t hear much, but he could make out, “Hurry up; Makoto-senpai is waiting! We can’t be late for his birthday party!”

The trio left, and Shiro wondered if that woman was Shion and Nezumi’s version of Neko.

He watched them disappear into the distance, and thought about how his university had interesting students.

But right now, he had two equally interesting people beside him—the cat-like Neko whom he treated as a daughter, and this person named Yatogami Kuroh whom he loves so, so much, and they’re more than enough for him.

 

 

**XVIII.**

_February 24, 2018, 7:12 PM_

Shion knows that Nezumi’s hackles rise whenever Safu is concerned. Thankfully, he’s not that kind of a jealous partner who would prohibit Shion from doing anything with Safu, but that doesn’t mean Nezumi’s letting his guard down.

Shion and Safu often meet for lunch or dinner from time to time. However, being third year university students means that their free time and social life are practically non-existent. Sleeping in the wee hours of the morning and waking up two hours later for morning classes is the new norm. Projects, assignments, essays, reaction papers, research papers, and analyses are mandated by the professors to be submitted the next week after the announcement, and reports must be done in a manner that the highest echelons of a company would approve of in a boardroom meeting.

Simply said, Shion and Safu, being the science students that they are, barely have time to breathe. It’s a miracle that they were able to find free time in their hectic schedule.

(Nezumi, on the other hand, has productions left and right ranging from straight plays to musicals. They also have pre-production and set production classes, and it’s a wonder that the poor guy isn’t dead from the exhaustion yet. Sometimes, he only comes home when Shion is about to leave for his 8 AM class. This is taking a toll in their relationship, but this not something that they couldn’t handle.)

Shion and Safu visited a nearby resto-bar one February Saturday night. From what Safu heard, the food there is fantastic, the bartender mixes pretty wicked drinks, there’s an open mic during weekends from 6-8 PM, and the ambience can and will relax your tired bones and stressed psyche. They were only in their booths for less than an hour and they had already loosened up. (But then again, maybe it’s just the alcohol. They both don’t drink much, but stress from academics will make you want to chug a whole keg of beer.)

**x.x.x.x**

Shion ordered spicy wings with a side of French fries, and Safu ordered a clubhouse sandwich. They were eating peacefully and trading stories about the hardships of their majors when a familiar voice flowed out of the speakers.

Sure enough, there was Nezumi singing in front of the mic with a guitar in his hands. Judging by the cheering people in front of him, Nezumi was most likely persuaded by his classmates (the people cheering him) to perform. He didn’t know that Shion and Safu would be eating dinner at this place, because Shion told him nothing (“Safu said that it’s a surprise!”), and Shion, although knowing that Nezumi was out for dinner with his classmates to celebrate the end of yet another production, didn’t know that they’d dine here.

What a coincidence.

This isn’t the first time that Shion heard Nezumi sing. Sometimes, Nezumi would sing him to sleep, or pull him into a duet of one of his favourite songs, or serenade him spontaneously given his penchant for theatrics. But each time, Nezumi’s voice would take Shion’s breath away, and this time is no exception. Even Safu was mesmerised.

Nezumi sang _Rokutousei no Yoru_. This is their unofficial theme song, one that Nezumi often sang to Shion in the dark of the night when he thought that the other is asleep. The lyrics of the song resonate soundly inside them. You could even say that they relate to it on an emotional level. They both saved each other. They both helped each other. They did a lot of things for each other, sometimes, even sacrificing themselves just for the other’s sake. When Nezumi was away, there was not a time when he did not think of Shion. When Nezumi was off wandering around god knows where, there was not a time when Shion did not think of him.

_I thank you for having found me, even though I am such a small constellation._

This was supposed to be a fun night. However, with Nezumi’s unexpected appearance and performance of a song that means so much to the both of them, Shion can’t help but feel emotional. His eyes were slightly glassy, and even from a distance, Shion can tell that Nezumi’s feeling the effects of having sung such an important song.

Safu noticed her friend looking dazed. “Shion,” she said, “Do you want to go up to him?”

Shion, looking initially shocked, now looked puzzled. He knows that Safu would rather have him all to herself during their night out, but she’s offering Shion a chance to temporarily slither away.

She really is his best friend. He wished that he could be as selfless as her during that moment.

Shion shook his head. “It’s better if he doesn’t know that we are here. He’ll just get embarrassed. And then he’d quarrel with you yet again.”

Safu chuckled. “You’re right.”

**xxx---xxx---xxx---xxx**

**Omake**

_February 24, 2018, 11:52 PM_

“Say, Nezumi,” Shion said, facing the other, “Would you sing me a song?”

Nezumi raised his eyebrows. “Why the sudden request?”

“Nothing. I just want to hear you sing.”

They were both laying on their bed, facing each other, their foreheads touching. Nezumi was tracing Shion’s scar on his cheek with his thumb, and Shion was leaning in to Nezumi’s touch.

“What do you want me to sing?”

“Something. Anything.”

“As you wish, Your Majesty.

“ _Kizutsuita toki wa sotto tsutsumikonde kuretara ureshii_...”

As Shion slowly drifted to sleep, he can’t help but think that _yes, all of this is more than enough._

 

 

**XIX.**

_May 4, 2018, 4:29 PM_

Sometimes, Shion picks Nezumi up from the Literature Club room so they can go to Nezumi’s workplace together. Then Shion would read to the kids while Nezumi mans the counter.

So Shion went to the club room. He went there often enough that Nezumi’s fellow club members already knew him, just like how Nezumi knew by face and (and even name) most of Shion’s classmates (because there are times when he fetches Shion from outside his classroom).

Sometimes, Shion also brings snacks for the lit club members. This afternoon, he brought a basket of cheese rolls that his mum brought when she visited two days ago. Karan brought not only those cheese rolls, but also two cherry cakes (one for Nezumi and Shion, another she gave to Inukashi), and a couple of small baskets filled with loaves of bread, cravats, croissants, muffins, and baguettes. They had enough bread to open a tiny Tokyo branch of Karan’s bakery. (They might even put that Pantasia branch a couple of blocks down out of buisness if they really open a branch of Karan’s bakery. Not that it will happen though, unless Karan moves to Tokyo.)

He gave half of the bread to Inukashi, even if Karan assured him that Inukashi had their own share. He also gave some to Safu and Kou, and set aside some muffins for Cravat, Hamlet, and Tsukiyo. He also shared some with Conan-kun and his friends, the kids he reads to at Nezumi’s work.

So it’s really no big deal that Shion brought all those cheese rolls that could feed a small club.

He opened the door, and was greeted by a familiar activity that the Lit Club loved to engage in: exchanging lines from their favourite books.

This time, Nezumi was bantering with Oshitari-kun, the president of the Lit Club. (Oshitari-kun is also acquainted with Kanata Irie, Nezumi’s classmate, because they both joined the U-17 tennis camp. They’re also members of the uni’s tennis club.)

“’What of Art?’” Oshitari said.

“’It is a malady’,” Nezumi replied

“’Love?’”

“’An Illusion.’”

“’Religion?’”

“’The fashionable substitute for Belief.’”

“’You are a sceptic.’”

“’Never! Scepticism is the beginning of Faith.’”

“’What are you?’”

“’To define is to limit,’” Shion answered in Nezumi’s stead, “Good afternoon, everyone! I come bearing cheese rolls.”

“Good afternoon to you, too,” Nezumi said, picking a cheese roll from the basket, “I see that you’re reading some Wilde in your spare time.”

Shion placed the basket on the table. He was greeted by various club members who also plucked a piece of bread from the basket.

“Here to take away the princess?” Oshitari asked, making note of Nezumi’s Eve persona.

“Yes,” Shion answered, “He promised to read to the kids today.”

Oshitari sniggered. Nezumi has that whole ‘bad boy’ thing going on (which would probably explain why he’s so popular with the ladies). “Even delinquents have their soft sides, I guess.”

Nezumi scowled.

“And what would he read today?” Oshitari asked.

“ _A Tale of Two Cities_ , children’s version,” Shion answered.

“Which is a shame,” Nezumi said, “Because the children would miss one of the most well-written opening paragraphs in all of literature[3]: ‘It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom—”

“—‘It was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way—in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only’,” Shion continued for him

Nezumi whistled. “You trying to get into my pants?”

“I don’t need to try,” Shion said.

 _Fuck_ , Nezumi thought, _I want him in my pants right fucking now._

“Get a room!” someone said. That someone would have probably thrown a book in their direction if Lit Club members didn’t consider damaging books blasphemy.

And then, Nezumi burst into his usual theatrics, reciting a poem in the way that poems are meant to be read—a rhythm, a certain cadence, stops in the right places, and the perfect modulation of voice. When all that was left to be recited were the last two lines of the sonnet, Nezumi stood in front of Shion so closely that there’s nary a distance between them. He took Shion’s hand, placed it above his heart, and whispered to his ear, “ _So close that your hand upon my chest is mine_ ,” Nezumi then leaned their foreheads together, eyelashes fluttering against each other, “ _So close that your eyes close with my dreams_.”

Nezumi took a step back and bowed. The entire club clapped, even if a member or two were saying how they should _get a room_ because _you two are gross STOOOOP_.

Shion was blushing furiously. He was red, redder than the scar that wrapped around his body, redder than his eyes, redder than the strawberries that he dips in fondue when he and Nezumi have time to spare to make something. Nezumi doesn’t often initiate public displays of affection, but he does from time to time, and when he does, Shion’s heart beats loudly enough that he’s afraid he’d go deaf.

**x.x.x.x**

When they were on their way to Nezumi’s work, Shion asked what the poem was that he had recited earlier.

“Pablo Neruda’s _Sonnet XVII_ ,” Nezumi answered, “Did you like it?”

“I loved it plenty,” Shion replied.

There have been a lot of times that Shion attempted to scribble how he felt about Nezumi, but he’s afraid that the other, being the literature nerd that he was, would find the words he had written on a paper inadequate. It always contained something like _eyes the colour of the overcast clouds looming above_ , or _he is the cup of warm tea on a cold day, the drop of water in a drought, the missing piece in a jigsaw puzzle_. He would never compare to Nezumi’s favourite poets. It’s not that he wants to; he just wants to express his indefinite love for this man beside him in a way that he’d understand and appreciate.

_Maybe, I could never put into words how much I love you and how you make me feel, but I do know is that I’d survive so long as you stay by my side, and that is more than enough._

“You’re thinking too hard,” Nezumi said, “Stop it.”

“Oh,” Shion said, “I’m sorry.”

“What are you apologising for? You should stop saying sorry for every little thing. And for the record, I know what you’re thinking. And no, I don’t need pretty words or fragrant flowers or sweet chocolates. I already have you. What more could I ask for?”

Shion knows that it must have took Nezumi a lot—a _fucking_ lot—to say a line straight out of a cheesy romcom, and he knows, he _just_ knows, how much Nezumi loves him.

And his love isn’t just ‘to the moon and back;’ it encompasses the whole Milky Way, possibly the entire universe.

 _Ah,_ Shion thought, _how great it is to feel the warmth of a million stars._

 

 

**XX.**

_September 10, 2018, 10:15 AM_

“In just five months, all of you will be graduating from this institution,” Professor Midford said, “And in just three months, the internship for the three best students in your class at the Manhattan Theatre Club will begin. Are you all ready to hear which students will go to New York?”

The class murmured assents, even if they already knew who those three students were. They were, of course, keeping track of the gold stars given.

Professor Midford continued, “Please note that this university will not send students to the MTC with gold stars lower than 40. We have a standard to uphold. Thus, if all or one of the top three rejects this opportunity, all of you will have to find your own internship sites, expenses paid by, of course, you yourselves, depending on the number of gold star that you have received. More on that later.

“You can even intern at the MTC, but the university will not pay a single cent for your expenses, and the Drama Department will not help you with your application. And remember that all of you must meet the minimum requirement of 350 hours of on-the-job training.

“Now, the highest number of gold stars whom someone not in the top 3 has is 36. This could only mean that should all or someone from the top three relinquish their spot, that spot will not go to anyone in this class. However, do not be discouraged. We will give everyone rewards based on their number of gold stars. The top three, besides an all-expense paid two and a half months of internship abroad, will get a weekly allowance and live in a place selected by the Drama Department itself. They will be given an allowance for food, travel, utility bills, clothing, extra money, and whatever they need to live in New York. For the top three, the minimum number of hours that they need to do is 300.

“For those with 30-39 gold stars, you need to work for a minimum of 320 hours, plus a small weekly allowance. For those with 20-29 gold stars, you will be given a smaller weekly allowance. You shall meet the standard number of hours for the interns, which is 350 hours. For those with 10-19 gold stars, you’ll also have 350 hours, and a reward in the form of an even smaller weekly allowance. For those with 0-9 gold stars, you get nothing. You need to work harder!

“If all of you perform well, your OJT site might offer to take you in for employment. Some of our alumni have been absorbed by their OJT sites, and are now touring the world performing in various plays. Let them serve as an inspiration to all of you.

“And now, the top three, which I’m sure that all of you already know: Top 1, Kanata Irie, with 61 gold stars. Top 2, Nezumi, with 53 gold stars. And Top 3, Ciel Phantomhive, with 50 gold stars. Now, is there any of you who will refuse the internship at MTC?”

Ciel raised his hand. “I’ll be returning to London for my internship.”

“I see,” Professor Midford said, “Say hello to your family for me.” She would have to talk to Professor Michaelis, then. There’s a huge chance that he would take a leave in order to return to London with his favourite student.

“I must reject the offer too, Professor,” Kanata said, “I need to focus on training for the upcoming competition. I can’t do that while in New York.”

This wasn’t a surprise. Kanata, despite being the best among his classmates, is also one of the best tennis players in the uni. Professor Midford will, however, recommend theatres in Tokyo for Kanata to apply to. She can’t let a talent like that go to waste, not when she heard that Kanata used his drama skills to win tennis matches.

She turned to the Top 2. “How about you, Nezumi?”

With slight trepidation, but without a second thought, he answered, “I’ll take the offer.”

**xxx---xxx---xxx---xxx**

_September 10, 2018, 8:02 PM_

Nezumi was on tenterhooks. Taking up the offer means that he and Shion will be separated for two and a half months. Yes, it’s a pretty short period of time, but ever since he left for 12 months, eight years ago, prolonged separations are a bit of a touchy topic for them. They’ve never been separated for more than a week (because of the millions of conferences and seminars that Shion attends to).

He wonders how Shion will react. And he doesn’t believe in a being with higher power than man, but he prays that he will not get too upset.

**x.x.x.x**

Nezumi brought a box of pizza and was home before 8 PM. Shion came home a few minutes after him.

“Evening,” Nezumi said, “How was your day?”

Shion slumped down on the couch. “Tiring. My thesis is moving at a snail’s pace. Thanks for the pizza, by the way.”

However, instead of eating the pizza, Shion laid his head on Nezumi’s shoulder. “I’m so tiiiiiired.”

“Want a massage?” Nezumi offered.

“Yes, please.”

Shion removed his top and laid on his stomach at the couch. Nezumi straddled him and began massaging him.

He wanted to loosen Shion up before he delivered the blow, but he never thought that the loosening up would be quite literal.

Shion moaned from his ministrations. This is one of the dangers of massaging him; it might lead to, uhm, other activities. And if it does lead to _that_ other activity, Nezumi wondered if he could tell Shion today, because he didn’t want to delay his announcement; delaying it further might cause graver consequences.

“You have something to tell me, don’t you?” Shion said.

It never ceases to amaze—and scare—Nezumi how well Shion knows him. Shion can just sense things concerning him. In a way, he, too, can sense when Shion had something to tell, or if something was bothering him. He supposes that it’s just the way couples are, and it still frightens him how another individual can seem to read his every move.

Shion sat up and put his shirt back on. “Tell me.”

 _This is it_.

“I...” Nezumi began, and took a deep breath before continuing, “You know about those gold stars that they give us?”

“The top three people with the highest number of accumulated gold stars will intern at the Manhattan Theatre Club, right?” Shion answered.

“Yeah.”

“And you’re one of the top three, meaning, you’ll be living in New York for two and half months. It’s okay. It’s just two and a half months. Nothing we can’t handle.”

“What—How did you—”

“I know your talent. It might just be me being overconfident about your skills, but ever since that time you received your first gold star, I somehow knew that you’d be chosen. It’s not really surprising.”

Shion framed Nezumi’s face between his hands. He smiled serenely, and said in a gentle voice, “I’m so proud of you, Nezumi.”

Nezumi bit his lip in order to stop himself from crying, and Shion chuckled, then said, “I know that you thought that I might get angry at you, but what’s almost three months of separation? You’ve been away for a year without talking to me, and I survived, even though I was miserable. But you came back. You came back to me. I know that I promised you and myself that when you came back, I was not letting you go again so easily. But you’re not going away permanently. You’re going away temporarily to improve your craft. So two and a half months will be nothing. You can always call or message me, and there’s Skype, you know? It’s going to be more than enough. It has got to be.”

Shion kissed him. “Thank you,” he said, “Thank you for thinking about my feelings. Thank you for thinking about how I might feel about your temporary absence. Thank you, Nezumi.”

Nezumi shook his head. “No, thank _you._ Thank you for... Fuck, some lit nerd I am. I can’t even put into words how I feel. Just... thank you for being so fucking understanding. You’re a saint, you know? What the fuck did I do to deserve you?”

Nezumi let his head fall to Shion’s shoulders. Shion hugged him, just relishing in the closeness of this man he loves so much.

“It’s not like you’re not going to come back,” Shion said, “And I trust in you. More than anything, I want you to be happy, and I know that acting and improving your craft will make you happy.”

“But you make me the happiest,” Nezumi said, “Goddammit. I fucking love you. If you told me seven or eight years ago that I’d be saying ‘I love you’ to someone, be on cloud nine just by having that someone beside me, and that I’d spout all this chick flick crap to that someone, I’d probably punch you in the face.”

“I know. But you’ve changed. You’re rough around the edges, but you’re a kind person.”

“Don’t spout that crap on me.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“What about that pizza?”

“Let’s eat it. And watch something on NatGeo.”

**x.x.x.x**

A few minutes later, they were both eating pizza and watching a show about solar energy. But Nezumi wasn’t watching, because all he could think about was the man seated beside him and how fortunate he was to have landed a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

More importantly, he kept thinking about Shion accepted things so easily. He really wanted to go to New York, and he really wanted Shion to let him. And to think that things went according to what he wished rather than what he thought would definitely happen is simply crazy. He thought about the other shoe dropping. He hoped that it didn’t, and that it never would.

He kissed Shion, and the other, completely forgetting about solar energy, eagerly kissed back. He removed Nezumi’s ponytail and weaved his fingers through his hair as he let himself be carried to their bedroom.

**xxx---xxx---xxx---xxx**

_September 10, 2018, 9:53 PM_

“Go kick some ass in New York,” Shion said, snuggling closer to Nezumi’s sweaty body.

Nezumi was still breathing hard, but pounding into Shion will do that to anyone. Not that he’d let anyone touch what was his though.

“You know... that I will,” Nezumi said between breaths, letting Shion scoot closer.

He tugged the blanket over them, and drifted off to a peaceful sleep.

 

 

**XXI.**

_September 24, 2018, 6:10 PM_

Nezumi’s leaving for New York in four months, and he had this niggling feeling that he had to do something for Shion, and do it now. He didn’t know why he wanted to do something, or why it needed to be now. All he knew was that he needed to get rid of that itch under skin.

A few weeks ago, they celebrated Shion’s 23rd birthday and their seventh anniversary, and what did Nezumi give him? A Dancing Groot Funko Pop[4], because “I walking around when I saw this cutesy plant figurine thing and you’re an ecology major, and, you know, plants?”

Shion just laughed he him. He kissed him as thanks, and reminded him about what he told him a few years back: that he doesn’t need a grand gesture, because he already had Nezumi, and that’s all he could ask for.

But even with Shion’s words, Nezumi can’t permit himself to be satisfied with such a measly gift for him.

He was still thinking about a proper gift when a customer came to the counter.

“That will be ¥2,560,” Nezumi drawled, ringing up the purchase.

The customer took her purchased books and left. But she didn’t really leave the bookstore; she merely went back to the throve of books and disappeared somewhere among the pages.

Nezumi narrowed his eyes at the girl who had just left. She’d been circling the bookstore for about a month now. She’d always been there before Nezumi’s shift began, and leave a little before Nezumi’s shift ended. Sometimes, he’d see her browse the DVD section. Sometimes, she’d buy something. Sometimes, she’d read in the reading area. Sometimes, she’d order a cup of warm something—coffee, tea, milk, chocolate, Nezumi didn’t know—and drink it while she read. But most of the time, she just browsed. Sometimes, Nezumi would feel her eyes on the back of his head, but that might just be his imagination.

He knew just one thing about her: she’s a student from Teitan High School. How does he know? Because she wears the same uniform as Ran-san, Sonoko-san, and Sera-san. Sometimes, those three would pick up Conan-kun and his friends.

(Nezumi is still wary of Conan and Ai. They seem to be waaaaaaay too mature for children their age.)

This time, however, was different. Two girls—Ran and Sonoko—entered the shop, and said, “Hey, Kitamura-san[5]!”

The girl, whose name seemed to be Kitamura, look startled. She dropped the book on the floor— _Cat’s Cradle_ by Kurt Vonnegut—and picked it back up. “H-hey, Mori-san, Suzuki-san,” she greeted.

Nezumi left the three girls to socialise, but the girls didn’t want him out of the picture.

“Hello, Nezumi-san!” Sonoko greeted.

“Evening,” Nezumi greeted back flatly.

“What, you not happy to see us?”

“Last time I saw you, you almost threw a bucketful of dog food on me.”

“That was an accident! And Inukashi left me off the hook even if I _accidentally_ spilled the dog food!”

“That’s because they hate me. But if you spilled the dog food on anyone, say, Ran-san here, you’d both get an earful for wasting precious dog food. You know the mutt. Their dogs are more precious than human beings for them.”

“Uhm,” Ran said, “You sure know a lot about them even though you hate them.”

Nezumi smirked. “You know what they say. Keep your friends close, but keep your enemies closer.

“And so? What brings you ladies here? How can I be of service?”

“Skip the dramatics; we’ve had enough during your last production, _Eve_ ,” Sonoko said.

“Anyway,” Ran said, butting in before Sonoko and Nezumi’s exchange of words escalated to a fight that would rival that of Nezumi’s and Inukashi’s, or Nezumi’s and Rikiga’s, or Nezumi’s and Safu’s. “Do you have the latest issue of the Detective Samonji Series? Conan-kun said that he has it on pre-order.”

“Ah, yes,” Nezumi said, looking for something on the counter behind him. “Here it is. That kid sure reads a ton of mystery books. And books not geared towards children.”

“That’s just how Conan-kun is,” Ran replied, “He really wanted to claim this book himself, but he got caught up in another investigation.”

“Another investigation? If I didn’t know better, I’d say that that brat is the harbinger of death,” Sonoko said.

And then they heard someone clear their throat.

It was Kitamura.

“Ah, Kitamura-san!” Sonoko said, “Did you find what you were searching for?”

“I found the other one earlier, so I bought it as soon as possible,” Kitamura said, “But I couldn’t find the other one yet.”

“Which book is it?” Nezumi asked.

“H-huh?” Kitamura said, blushing slightly. She looked a bit bewildered, as if she can’t believe that Nezumi spoke to her.

“The book you’re looking for,” he replied, masking his irritation for repeating himself.

“Oh. It’s the newest book by Usami Akihiko, _Bears Falling From the Sky_ [6],” Kitamura answered.

“It’s scheduled to arrive tomorrow. Do you want me to reserve you a copy?” Just then, Nezumi wanted to bash his skull against the counter. He didn’t know why he offered to do something nice for a girl that he suspected had a crush on him.

 _Great_ , he thought, _now she’ll think that I’m fuelling the fire_.

“Y-y-yes! Thank you very much!”

“Isn’t that nice, Kitamura-san?” Ran said, “Nezumi-kun is really dependable.”

“Tch,” Nezumi mumbled. He hates it when people say nice things about him.

“Do you guys know each other?” Kitamura asked.

“Oh yes,” Sonoko said, “This devil in disguise is Nezumi. We met at that dog shelter 20 minutes from here. But don’t let his good looks fool you; he’s actually an impolite bastard who will use his charms and acting talent to beguile you.”

“Devil in disguise? Acting talent?” Kitamura asked at the same time Nezumi said, “Shouldn’t you be respecting your elders?”

Nezumi thought that, like the other girls who were infatuated with him, this girl is just pretending that she didn’t know about his major, blood type, affiliations, and other general information that circulated the non-existent Nezumi Fan Club. However, it might be that she actually didn’t know anything.

“He’s a drama major,” Ran said, “We actually went to one of the drama students’ performance last summer. Nezumi played the role of Christine from _The Phantom of the Opera_ , and he was really good! You’d actually think that he was female if you didn’t know him.”

“He can play both male and female roles without difficulty, and I hate that about him,” Sonoko said, “His stage name is Eve, by the way.”

“I hardly know why that matters,” Nezumi said, “And I’m older than you, so you could at least give me some respect.”

“Who would respect a two-faced person like you?” Sonoko said.

Nezumi, tired of the banter, said, “Now, if you don’t have any more business with me, there are customers wanting to buy books, if you don’t mind.”

Ran, Sonoko, and Kitamura moved to the side, apologising for the troubles that they’d caused.

Before his shift ended, Nezumi and Kitamura Michiko were formally introduced.

Before his shift ended, Nezumi was sure that Kitamura had the hots for him.

Before his shift ended, Nezumi still didn’t know what to get Shion.

**xxx---xxx---xxx---xxx**

_September 25, 2018, 6:32 PM_

Kitamura was there again. Nezumi could feel her staring at him over an open copy of _The Wind-up Bird Chronicle_ that she was holding. Nezumi isn’t sure if she was really reading it, or if it was just a prop, or just something to hide her face when he looked her way.

From what he could tell, she genuinely liked to read. He’d seen her read a lot of titles, from _Iliad_ to _Animal Farm_ to _Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children_. He’d seen her read the books intently, and he’d given her credit for that.

And it’s not like he’d been watching her on purpose. People-watching was one of his hobbies. It’s necessary to do reconnaissance in every environment he’d been in if he wanted to defend himself.

“Um, excuse me, Nezumi-san,” Kitamura said, “I have never read Shakespeare before, so could you recommend me some of his works?”

“You’ve never read Shakespeare before?” Nezumi said. You can imagine him clutching his metaphorical pearl necklace. “Why? And why the sudden interest?”

He was about to answer when he heard Shion’s voice say, “Don’t ask him anything about Shakespeare! He’ll just go on a spiel about him! He’s like his literary god or something.”

“Excuse me, but I do not spiel about him,” Nezumi said, “And what are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to work on your thesis?”

“Well, I’ve made significant progress in the last three hours, so I figured that I’d call it a day and visit you,” Shion said with a grin.

“Go disturb someone else; I’m working,” Nezumi spat. Only Shion, whom he has been with for seven years, could tell that he actually said that statement affectionately.

“Fine, fine,” Shion said. He then turned to Kitamura and told her, “He particularly loves _Hamlet_ and _Macbeth_ , by the way.”

“Oh,” Kitamura said, “Thank you. I’m Kitamura.”

“Shion, Nezumi’s roommate.”

Nezumi wanted to say that _he’s more than my roommate_ , but he didn’t like flaunting his relationship with Shion.

And that reminds Nezumi, surely, in the one month that Kitamura spent, uhm, stalking him (for a lack of a better word), Kitamura has already seen Shion. And maybe, she’d seen the subtle touches, sneaky glances, hair-ruffling, teasing, and maybe even the affectionate countenance and smile. Maybe she’d seen them all and formed her own conclusions, yet she still persisted in admiring Nezumi from afar.

Nezumi concluded that she’s a masochist.

**xxx---xxx---xxx---xxx**

_September 26, 2018, 7:01 PM_

“Ah, Nezumi-san!” Kitamura said, hurrying towards him as he exited the store when his shift ended.

“Do you need anything? If it’s something about the store, I’m sorry, but my shift just ended, and I’m in a hurry to get home.”

“It’s not about the store,” Kitamura said, “And I’m really sorry if you’re in a hurry to get home, but I just needed to get this out of my system. Because if I don’t, I’m sure that I’ll regret it forever.”

 _Here it goes_ , Nezumi thought.

During high school, Nezumi has received enough love confessions to last a lifetime. It was widely-known that he and Shion were together, but that didn’t deter the students from confessing. Some were from bold and straightforward women who confessed bravely. Some were meek and shy, confessing so quietly that only the wind heard them. Some did it through the tried and tested mail in his shoe locker method. Some confessed through a home-made bento, some through chocolates on Valentine’s Day, some through spoken words under the ever-present cherry blossom tree. He’d had all types of girls confess to him. He even had a couple of guys admit their love for him.

In the end, all of them received the same answer: “I’m sorry, but I already have someone that I love,” or some variation of it.

Nezumi was certain that Kitamura would hear those same words before the hour was over.

Kitamura looked him in the eyes. “I like you, Nezumi-san. I first entered this bookstore a month ago, and when I first laid eyes on you, my heart just wouldn’t stop pounding. It was love at first sight, I guess. So I came back here every day just to see you, hoping that you’d notice me… hoping that you’ll like me back.”

“I did notice you,” Nezumi said, “It’s hard not to notice you when you kept coming day after day.”

That gave Kitamura a small smile. However, it disappeared with what Nezumi said next.

“But don’t mistake me noticing you for me having affections for you. You’re just a customer in the bookstore, and the classmate of my acquaintances from the dog shelter. And even if you’re not, even if you’re my friend, classmate, or clubmate, I would not be able to return your feelings.”

“You’ve given this speech plenty of times, haven’t you,” she said. It was more of a statement than a question.

“Yes, and what I’ll say next is something that I’ve said to each and everyone who confessed to me: I’m sorry, but I already have someone that I love.”

It didn’t surprise Nezumi to see her bravely trying to stop her tears. Most of his confessors did. “It’s Shion-san from yesterday, isn’t it?”

“Yes. Does it surprise you?”

She wiped her tears away with her handkerchief. “I’ve seen the way the two of you move around each other. I’ve had my suspicions, but I didn’t think that it was true.”

“And yet, despite knowing that my heart has been claimed already, you valiantly declared your affections unto me. I applaud thee, milady.”

She chuckled. “Are all drama majors like that?”

“Most of us, but not all.”

She was effectively suppressing the sobs that threatened to wrack her body. “I know that it’s been only a month, but… Thank you, Nezumi-san, for listening to me. I feel better now, having a received a proper rejection. If I just kept it all in, I might have felt worse.”

“I’m really sorry, but I need to get home.”

“Is he waiting for you?”

“Yes.”

“Off you go then. Have a good life, Nezumi-san. And don’t worry; I’ll still come back to the bookstore. See you around.”

“You too.”

Every time he rejected someone, it was as if his feelings for Shion were further cemented into his heart. Every time he uttered _I’m sorry, but I already have someone that I love_ , it was as if he was being reminded again and again of the person he chose to be with for the rest of his life, and that there was no turning back for him. Those words rolled off his tongue more times than he could count, but they ring truer with each time they’d been spoken aloud.

Every time he rejected someone, Nezumi simultaneously made an oath that there was no one in all the planes of existence that he’d love but Shion.

**x.x.x.x**

The case with Kitamura might have already been solved, but one problem remained; he still didn’t know what to get Shion. Every time somebody confessed to him, he felt an urge to scoop Shion up and trap him in his arms, and all he could think of was how much he loves him. Being exposed to another’s unrequited feelings could be physically and mentally taxing for him, only because it was tiring to reject people one after another. If he were his old self, he might have driven them away harshly, but like Shion said, he had changed, and was now trying to let them down gently.

Still, one battle at a time. For now, there was Shion’s cooking waiting for him at home.

**xxx---xxx---xxx---xxx**

He was at his wits’ end when he had that Eureka moment he’d been waiting for.

He thought about how Kou was harping on about it the other month, something like her Makoto-senpai, Haruka-senpai, and titanium. She was also saying something about Sousuke-kun asking her for advice because he ‘wanted to give one to Rin.’ He thought about how Nagisa-kun has been making (overt) suggestions to Rei-kun, to which Rei would feign ignorance. He thought about Professor Sutcliff saying that Professor Michaelis wanted to give one to Phantomhive, but seeing that they’re keeping their relationship under wraps because the faculty strongly discouraged student-professor relationships, Professor Michaelis postponed giving it. He thought about Ran, Sonoko, and Kazuha (who visited from Osaka yet again) talking about it and wishing that their boys weren’t so dense.

The universe has been giving him suggestions all this time, and he had never noticed it until now.

 _Of course_ , he thought, _of fucking course._

**xxx---xxx---xxx---xxx**

_September 27, 2015, 7:33 PM_

There was a jewellery shop near his workplace, and it closed at 9 PM. So as soon as shift ended, he sprinted to the shop.

Now, he was standing in front of the glass display case, mentally beating himself for not doing research because he was overwhelmed by the number of choices before him.

Seemingly sensing his distress, the shop attendant asked, “May I help you, Sir?”

Nezumi wanted to give in to his pride and browse the store himself, but he really needed the help. He had read about it in literature and had seen it in movies, but he never knew that it could be this hard.

“I need… a ring Fuck, no, I need two rings.” he said.

“I can see that,” the shop attendant said, an amused smile on her face. “A lot of men come in here looking as lost as you do. Do you have anything in mind?”

“Something simple and unobtrusive,” he replied. Neither he nor Shion were the jewellery type, and they keep their PDA to a minimum (just holding hands, the occasional pecks, but nothing too showy or overboard. Most of the time, that is.). Something flashy or eye-catching like gems wouldn’t suit them.

The shop attendant reached for something inside the glass case. She showed him two gold rings with an intricate pattern.

“I don’t think that’s it,” he said.

She took another pair out. They were still gold rings, but moulded in a funny way that didn’t really resemble a ring. Nezumi thought about what part of that was unobtrusive.

The third pair that the shop attendant showed him were plain silver rings. There were neither pattern, gems, nor funny shapes about them; they were just simple silver bands. Its design was what Nezumi had been looking for exactly. He didn’t know that it was what he was looking for, but the moment he saw the rings, he knew that they were ‘it.’

“We offer free engraving,” the shop attendant said upon noticing Nezumi smile.

“I’ll take them.”

**xxx---xxx---xxx---xxx**

_September 28, 2018, 8:27 PM_

He never knew that something so small could weigh so heavily. He removed the rings from their velvet boxes, deciding that giving Shion a ring was something straight out of a romcom, but giving him a ring that he would take out of a velvet box was just on a whole other level of uncomfortable.

Needless to say, there is _no_ kneeling happening.

He was waiting for Shion to come home. There’s no fancy candlelit dinner, no rose petals strewn everywhere, no wine being cooled in a bucket of ice. There was only pizza, two cans of soda, and National Geographic.

Five minutes later, he heard an “I’m home!” accompany the opening of the door.

Nezumi quickly shoved the rings back into his pocket before Shion could see them. Shion’s expression lit up upon seeing the box of pizza on the coffee table.

“I love youuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu,” he said (to Nezumi or the pizza, Nezumi wasn’t sure). He gave Nezumi a bear hug (yep, it’s the pizza), and quickly took a bite before turning to the television, showing a documentary about caves.

“So how was your day?” Nezumi asked.

“Same old,” Shion replied, “My thesis is coming along well, and Safu’s adviser was very impressed by her dissertation.”

Nezumi mumbled a noncommittal reply.

“How was _your_ day?” Shion asked.

“Makoto-san came and bought a cookbook. He said that he needed to know more recipes, because otherwise, Haruka-san would feed him mackerel for all eternity.”

“If I could, I’d have you feed me Macbeth soup for all eternity.”

“We’d get sick of the taste and you’d hate me for feeding you Macbeth soup every fucking day.”

“I could never hate you or your cooking.”

Minutes later, Shion was slumped over him. He could hear him breathing, hear his heart pounding, and feel his warmth. He could feel Shion’s hair tickle his neck, and Shion’s fingers absently playing with his hair.

He wanted to give the rings as soon as possible, and he decided that as far as ‘as soon as possible’ goes, this time was the right time.

“Shion,” Nezumi said.

“Hm?” Shion answered sleepily.

“I have something to give you.”

Shion detached himself from Nezumi’s side so he could look at him.

“What is it?”

 _This is it_ , Nezumi thought, _this is really fucking it_.

His heart wouldn’t stop pounding. He could hear his own heart trying to jump out of his ribcage. He reached for his pocket with shaky fingers. He was afraid that he’d accidentally drop the ring and ruin the moment, so he willed his fingers to cooperate.

And, to his joy, they did. He was able to extract the ring from his pocket without dropping it.

He took Shion’s right hand and slowly placed the ring on his ring finger.

Shion’s eyes widened, but before he could say anything, Nezumi said, “This is not a proposal okay, so don’t freak out. I’m not asking you to marry me, though I might ask in you in the future, if you’ll have me. Call this a promise ring, if you will.

“You said that you don’t want me to give you something flashy, and that you don’t need grand gestures from me. But I’m not satisfied with that. I would give you the whole world if I could. I don’t think that a plant figurine thing would express the immense love that I feel for you. I want to give you something that equates to what I feel for you, something big, something grand. But you don’t want that, because you said that just my mere presence makes you happy. However, I want that, because it’s the only way that I can express how much I care about you.

“I’m not a good person, even though you think otherwise. I did you a lot of wrong, and no number of rights that I do will erase the pain that I’ve put you through in that one year. This ring shows that I’ll never hurt you again, and that I will never leave you again, ever.

“So, take this ring, maybe? I had to swallow a lot of my issues just to say this to you. That’s how much I treasure you, you fucking airhead.”

Tears were leaking out of Shion’s eyes. He stared at the ring on his right finger as if it were the One Ring.

“Do you like it?” Nezumi asked nervously.

And then, Shion flopped down on him.

“I love it,” he said, between sobs, “ _I love you_.”

“I’m glad,” he replied, carding Shion’s hair through his fingers.

They stayed like that for a few minutes, with Shion quietly crying and Nezumi patting his head.

“Am I the only one who gets to wear a ring?” Shion asked when he has calmed down.

“I have one for myself, but—”

“Let me put it on you,” Shion said, abruptly sitting up, “I want to put it on you.”

Nezumi took the other ring from his pocket and gave it to Shion. “I can put it on myself, you know.”

“You put the other ring on me, so I get to put this one on you.”

“Suit yourself then.”

Shion was about to put it on Nezumi when he noticed something. “This is supposed to be yours, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Then why is my name engraved inside it?”

It didn’t happen often, but Nezumi blushed. He turned his head away and said, “Because I want your name on my ring, okay? And I figured that you want mine on yours.”

Shion removed the ring to check it, and true enough, Nezumi’s name was engraved on it.

“Put it back,” Shion said, “Put it back on me.”

Nezumi rolled his eyes, but followed Shion’s orders. Then Shion slid the ring onto Nezumi’s right ring finger, and just like that, the world stopped revolving, and everything seemed to be in the right place.

“I’ll be away for two and a half months, and I hope that by looking at it, you’ll be reminded of me and how much I love you. It’s also something that you can ward off people with. I can’t leave without laying my claim, after all. So, Your Highness, Your Majesty, my Prince, my King, my love, my boyfriend, my partner, my other half, my better half, the love of fucking my life, wear that ring and always think of me when I’m away,” Nezumi said.

“You’re a sap, you know?” Shion said, laughing softly. He was marvelling at the matching rings adorning their fingers, and there was so much awe in his eyes that Nezumi was so proud of himself for finally choosing the right present.

“I hope that this also wards off people in New York,” Shion said.

“It will, Your Majesty,” Nezumi said, kissing the ring on Shion’s knuckles. He quoted:

 _“My bounty is as boundless as the sea,_  
_My love as deep; the more I give to thee,  
__The more I have, for both are infinite_ [7] _.”_

Shion replied with another quote:

 _“I know no ways to mince it in love, but directly to say ‘I love you'_ [8] _.”_

Nezumi embraced him and kissed his forehead. He kissed his eyes, his nose, his cheeks, his lips.

He kissed him deeply, and awkward angles be damned, but his right hand never broke away from Shion’s right hand.

It was almost inaudible, but he could hear their rings clinking against each other, and he decided that it was one of his most favourite sounds in the world.

**x.x.x.x**

(The next day, a Polaroid photo of two right hands clasped against each other, rings visible, was pinned to the corkboard in their library, dated _September 28, 2018.)_

 

 

**XXII.**

_October 2, 2018, 11:40 AM_

This is the first time that Safu and Shion had seen each other in a month. With the both of them working on their theses, all communication has been made through mobile phones (because neither of them keeps an active Facebook account).

And in that month, a lot of things had changed, but nothing as noteworthy as the ring on Shion’s right ring finger.

She first noticed it when Shion brought the cup of coffee to his lips. Shion’s right-handed, so he used his right hand to lift the coffee cup, which made her notice the silver band.

“Shion,” she said, “You’re wearing a ring. You’ve never worn one before.” She had an inkling of what she’d hear next, and she’s dreading it. “You’re not the jewellery-wearing type.”

“Oh,” he replied, looking like the shy, sheepish boy from her memories, “Nezumi gave it to me.”

Safu almost choked on her food, despite guessing that it was, of course, Nezumi who gave it to him. “You’re engaged now?!”

She said it so loud that the whole café looked at them. Thankfully, everyone went back to their own businesses a few seconds later.

“No!” Shion said, keeping his voice down, “He specifically said that this is not an engagement ring, even though he _might_ propose in the future. It’s a promise ring.” He blushed and rubbed the back of his neck, giggling nervously.

Safu almost spilled her drink, but Shion didn’t notice because he was looking faraway, fiddling with the small metal on his finger. “He wanted to give me ‘something nice’ before he leaves for New York.”

And, Safu decided, that that was it. The fond, faraway look that Shion had on his face is too much. It’s always too much to hear him talk about Nezumi, or see him smile because of Nezumi, or see how his face softens just at the mere mention of Nezumi. It’s always too much to see Shion leave after their lunch or dinner dates, knowing that he’ll return home to Nezumi. It’s always too much to know that Shion has a home with Nezumi. It’s always too much to know that it’ll be always Nezumi, and not her.

The ring was the final nail to her coffin, the final push before she plummeted down the ravine.

She had truly lost Shion.

Scratch that; she had lost Shion ever since that stormy night nine years ago.

**x.x.x.x**

Despite all her jealousy, she had never been angry at Nezumi. She wasn’t angry at him when he left for a year, because she had Shion all to herself, even if Shion was wretched most of the time. But right now, with the sun glinting on that damned ring as if it was mocking her, Safu felt the almost strange burning of hatred bubbling under her skin.

If Shion had only not opened his window that night, then Nezumi wouldn’t have come to his room. Nezumi wouldn’t be in their lives, and Shion would be hers.

She wanted to snatch the ring away and throw it into Mount Doom, but not when her love for her best friend, who’s glowing and looking so happy, conflicts with her hatred for Nezumi.

**xxx---xxx---xxx---xxx**

Safu has thought a lot about it over the past years. What if she dated someone? What if she moved on and found someone? What if Shion and Nezumi broke up, and Shion became hers?

She has resigned herself to the fact that the one she loves is in a relationship with someone else, but she had never truly moved on. She didn’t try to break them apart, even if she wanted to. Seeing Shion happy was a double-edged sword; yes, he is happy, and that pleased her, but not happy _because_ of her. She just wanted to be the cause of that happiness, to be on the receiving end of that soft gaze, to be the one he said ‘I love you’ to. Sure, he’d said ‘I love you’ to her, but he only ever meant it as her best friend.

If Nezumi’s just playing with Shion, then she might have a chance with him. But it doesn’t take Safu’s almost-finished psychology degree to know that what Nezumi feels is genuine, and that Shion also feels the same.

There is nothing truly as painful as watching the one you love, love someone else.

And she felt bad for all those people who confessed to Nezumi, because they had fallen for such an asshole, but right now, she empathised with them. She knew how it felt to be rejected, and how to have that truth slapped onto your face every single day.

She wanted to move on, because this was hurting her like hell, but she didn’t know how to, so she sent a text message to only person that she knew could help her.

**xxx---xxx---xxx---xxx**

_October 2, 2018, 4:00 PM_

“I could be reading a book in the Lit Club Room,” Nezumi said, sitting on the chair in front of her, “But instead, I’m in the library with you. What do you want?”

“Believe me, I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t need to be,” Safu replied.

“And? What is it that you need to talk to me about? If it’s anything about him, sorry, but I’m not breaking up with him any time soon.”

“I know. I saw the rings,” she said, gritting her teeth.

Nezumi grinned. It was the kind of grin predators have when they know that their prey can’t escape. “Oh? So you’re finally conceding the facts.” He mock-clapped, and then added, “Good step for you.”

“I didn’t tell you to come here so you could mock me. I told you to come here because… because… because it hurts, you know? I want to move on. I want to forget Shion, but I don’t know how to. And that really irritates me, because all those years I’ve loved no one but him, so maybe, just maybe, I had forgotten how to love someone else.

“But you know why I want to do this? Why I _need_ to do this? Why I messaged you instead of him? Because I believe that you’re the reason why we’re not together. I believe that if only you hadn’t trespassed through his window when he was 12, then none of this would be happening. Maybe he’s the one giving me the ring, and we’re the ones wearing matching rings instead of the two of you. But you had to ruin it… you had to ruin it all…”

By now, Safu was crying. She didn’t care that this was the library and that she needed to be quiet. All she cared about was expressing her motions, because after bottling them up for nine years, she was finally ready to let it all out. She was finally ready to let go.

“I’m happy for him. I’m happy because he’s happy. But he’s only happy because of you, and I can’t help but wish that he’d be happy because of me. So even though I hate you for taking what could be mine, I can’t fully hate you, because you make him so, so happy. And I thank you for that. Only you can bring that kind of smile to his face. You should have seen how he looked when you went away. He was always looking out in the distance, hoping that you’d come back. And when you finally did, I felt his happiness too, you know? Even if I wasn’t happy that you were back in the picture. But he radiates this… this bliss of having you around once again, even if I feel the opposite. I, too, am happy, because the most important person in this world to me is happy.”

Safu looked at Nezumi. She wiped the tears from eyes, and looked him dead in the eye. “So you better continue to make him happy, or I’ll hunt you down and make you pay. This is me giving up. This is me letting him go. This is me acknowledging that the two of you are meant to be together, so don’t laugh at me, and don’t mock me, okay? Because this isn’t easy for me. Those rings were the last straw, and when I saw them, I felt the last strand of hope that I have singe.

“Take care of him, please?”

Nezumi was looking at her like she was a whole new person. With nine years of bad blood between them, and for her to suddenly spout all those words, she might as well be an entirely different person.

She didn’t know what was going through his mind. She could see the signs, tell them from his body language, but those gestures and tiny movements could always mean one thing or another. With Nezumi, there’s just no accurate psychoanalysis.

“I will,” he said.

 **xxx---xxx---xxx---xxx**

_October 2, 2018, 4:43 PM_

The most surprising thing about that day was not her emotional outburst nor her resolve to let Shion go, but Nezumi hugging her once they had left the library.

“Thank you,” he said, “And I’m sorry. For putting you through so much. I can assure you that I’ll keep him in the clouds, even if it kills me. Thank you for letting me take care of him.”

And for what seemed like the thousandth time that day, Safu cried. She hugged Nezumi back, crying tears of sadness for a love lost, and crying tears of joy for a new beginning, finally.

Her tears may have clouded her vision for the moment, but the future didn’t look so bleak anymore.

 

 

**XXIII.**

_December 18, 2018, 7:59 PM_

Shion thought that with Safu and Nezumi coming to terms with each other, their petty rivalry would stop. But it hadn’t. Sure, he couldn’t sense any more animosity between them, but the competition didn’t vanish. They’d still try to outdo each other, and if this continued, they might have a repeat of Halloween 2016 where drunk Safu and drunk Nezumi almost had a karaoke face-off.

This time, they were trying to see which one of them could decorate the most cupcakes to give their guests. The kitchen was a mess of green, red, and white frosting, and there were already 30 decorated cupcakes (they had made 15 each, so they were currently tied), which already reached past the expected number of people at the party: 14. Shion had just barely stopped them when the doorbell rang.

“Good evening, Shion-chan!” Nagisa greeted, “We bought two boxes of cake because I didn’t think that a box would fit all 14 of us tonight!”

“Nagisa-kun just wanted an excuse to buy more sweets,” Rei said.

“Good evening to the both of you!” Shion said, and herded them inside. There was no use in asking Nagisa to stop affixing –chan to his name, because he’d never stop.

**x.x.x.x**

A few minutes later, when Nagisa was eating the extra cupcakes and Rei was telling him to watch his health (because he might get diabetes), the doorbell rang again.

“Good evening, Shion-kun,” Makoto greeted.

“Good evening, Makoto-san, Haruka-san.” Shion greeted back, “Thank you very much for coming tonight, even if you’re really busy with work.”

“It’s no big deal,” Haru said, “Here, we brought some mackerel.”

Makoto smiled apologetically.

**x.x.x.x**

Makoto and Haru, having graduated last year (like Sousuke, Rin, and Kisumi), were practically the objects of envy to the remaining students. Nagisa was grumbling about being tired of paper work, and wished that he could just perform on stage every day. Rei, however, was the opposite, because he was loving every minute of putting his theories onto paper. Shion and Safu shared the same sentiment, but even if their theses were harrowing, they were actually enjoying the research.

This time, Nezumi and Safu are engaged in a contest to see who could fry the bacon-wrapped hotdogs the fastest, with Nagisa cheering them on. And then the doorbell rang, revealing an angry-looking Kou and two very tired Sousuke and Rin.

“I told them to stop eating the cookie batter, but they didn’t, so I had to make another batch! Just don’t come running to me if you ever get salmonella!” Kou said, giving Shion her home-made Christmas-themed cookies.

**x.x.x.x**

When the doorbell rang once more and announced the arrival of more guests, Shion opened the door to see Nitori and Momo playing with a puppy that Inukashi held.

“Some dick abandoned this puppy at Christmas time,” Inukashi said, “So I brought her here to experience some fun.”

The puppy barked, and Nitori and Momo continued playing with it.

“I bought these for your mice, by the way,” Inukashi said, giving him the mice food.

“Thank you, Inukashi,” Shion said.

“We also got you this, Shion-kun,” Nitori said, handing him a basket of fruits.

Shion thanked them and ushered them inside. He was about to close the door when Rikiga came bearing bottles of juice.

(After last Halloween, he made sure that there would be no alcohol consumption during any of the parties they hosted.)

**xxx---xxx---xxx---xxx**

_December 18, 2018, 8:30 PM_

Shion initially wanted to invite Conan-kun and his friends, but they were all up in Osaka visiting Heiji-kun and Kazuha-san, and, possibly, solving some (murder) mystery. Mysteries followed Conan and Heiji like girls followed Nezumi. Kisumi also couldn’t come because he was helping his little brother with his school Christmas party.

Safu and Nezumi, thankfully, stopped competing once dinner was served. Everyone was left to their own devices and traded stories left and right.

“Speaking of internship, where are you gonna do yours, Zumi-chan?” Nagisa asked, “I still can’t decide where to do mine.”

“Shouldn’t you be a little worried? My uni and your uni both hold internships during the last sem, which is already next month.” Nezumi answered, “And stop calling me that hideous nickname, because if you don't, I won’t hesitate to strangle you.”

Nagisa didn’t heed Nezumi’s threat. “Don’t mind me; I’m sure things will get sorted out! So where are you interning?”

“Why are you so interested in knowing?”

“I’m always interested in how my friends’ lives are faring!”

“I’m not your friend.”

“Stop being so mean! You just need to tell me. That isn’t so hard, right?”

Sometimes, Nagisa’s persistence, nosiness, and never-ending barrage of questions remind him of Shion. He suddenly had a newfound modicum of respect for Rei. “If I tell you, will you shut up and leave me alone?”

“I can try to do that.”

Nezumi glared at him.

“Fine! I’ll leave you alone! So tell where you’re interning, pretty please?”

Nezumi pinched the bridge of his nose. He wanted to get Nagisa off his back, so he finally relented and answered the swimmer’s question. “You really are a piece of work, aren’t you? I wonder how Rei-kun puts up with you.”

Nagisa pouted. Nezumi itched for the feel of a knife in his hands. Even if he didn’t answer, Nagisa would just ask Shion, and Shion would easily reply.

“MTC,” Nezumi answered.

“MTC?” Nagisa echoed.

“Manhattan Theatre Club.”

“Manhattan Theatre Club?! But that’s—HEY EVERYONE, ZUMI-CHAN IS INTERNING AT THE MANHATTAN THEATRE CLUB IN NEW YORK!”

“What the—Shut your mouth, you nasty shit!” Nezumi hissed. He was regretting ever telling the blonde devil.

And Nagisa, being Nagisa, continued delivering the good news, while everyone, in return, congratulated Nezumi. A chorus of “Why didn’t you tell us sooner?” or “How did you get it?” and “You’re so amazing, Nezumi-kun!” was heard.

“He’s just embarrassed,” Shion said, giggling at a harried Nezumi, “But the Drama Department in our uni has this sytem of giving out gold stars every week to three outstanding students. Nezumi was the Top 2, and the reward for being in the Top 3 is an all-expense paid internship at the MTC. In the past three months, the Drama Department has been processing all the paperwork, and Nezumi had three Skype interviews with MTC’s production office.”

“Wow, that’s so amazing!” Nagisa said, “I wish my uni had that system too.”

“He’ll be gone for two and a half months though,” Shion said,a tinge of loneliness in his voice that no one but Nezumi noticed. Inukashi and Rikiga, on the other hand, were ecstatic that they wouldn’t see Nezumi for a while.

“It will be over in a flash!” Kou said, “Sometimes, holidays come, and I’ll get surprised like ‘Eh? Onii-chan and Sousuke-kun are here again?’”

“What, you don’t want us coming home?” Rin said.

“That’s not what I mean!” Kou said, “What I’m trying to say is—Shion-kun, is that a ring on your finger?”

If the commotion earlier had been caused by the news of Nezumi going to New York, this time, it was about Shion’s ring and “Oh my god, Nezumi-kun is wearing a matching ring! That’s sooooooo sweet! I always knew that you were the quite the romantic!”

Inukashi and Rikiga were in Nezumi’s face, saying that a scum like him didn’t deserve someone as nice as Shion. Nezumi told them to get out of his face, but in his mind, he was agreeing that he really didn’t deserve someone like Shion, no matter how many times the other assured him that he was more than enough.

Shion, meanwhile, was all red from Kou, Nagisa, Momo, and Nitori’s gushing; and he kept telling them that no, this was _not_ an engagement ring.

And if Nezumi wasn’t so busy fending off Inukashi and Rikiga, and if he had time to look around, he’d notice that Makoto, Sousuke, and Rei all had a certain look on their faces, as if something about the mention of rings triggered something inside them.

 **xxx---xxx---xxx---xxx**

_December 18, 2018, 9:12 PM_

“Come on Safu, why weren’t you grilling Nezumi about the rings?!” Rikiga asked when the kerfuffle had finally died down. Everyone had settled into comfortable seats eating cake and dinner leftovers while watching.

“But I’ve already seen those rings,” Safu replied, “And I have given them my blessings.”

“Wha—what?”

“Shion is my best friend, and I want him to be happy. He’s happy with Nezumi.”

“When did this happen?”

“A few months ago. We may not like Nezumi that much, but he makes Shion happy and he treats him well. And while Nezumi is pretty hostile to almost everyone, he treats Shion differently. He loves him.”

“That’s awfully nice of you. I hope that you find someone who will make you happy. But please, don’t introduce us to someone like that rodent.”

“I hope so, too.”

**xxx---xxx---xxx---xxx**

_December 18, 2018, 10:41 PM_

“Stop cleaning and let’s go to bed. I’m fucking tired,” Nezumi said, dragging Shion to their bedroom.

“But it’s too dirty,” Shion said.

“The trash is not going anywhere. We can clean it up tomorrow. I want to sleep.”

“…Fine.”

Nezumi stopped on the doorway to their room.

“Nezumi?” Shion said.

“Mistletoe,” he said, looking above them.

“I didn’t hang that one.”

“Me neither.”

“Who did?”

“I don’t give a damn. Just shut up and kiss me.”

And Shion did.

They kissed under the mistletoe that neither of them hung (probably Nagisa, Nezumi thought, because that blonde is a devious little shit), a sleepy meeting of lips and tongues. The both of them don’t have the energy to bring things further, and instead, they fell into their bed in a tangle of limbs, puffy winter breaths, the tinny tinkling of silver bands, and soft mumbles of ‘I love you’s.’

 

**XXIV.**

_January 3, 2019, 9:18 AM_

It was two days before Nezumi leaves for New York, and Shion was helping Nezumi pack up.

“No, leave that shirt behind!” Shion said, grabbing the shirt that Nezumi was about to put in his luggage.

“Why? I like that shirt. It’s comfortable.” Nezumi said, trying to grab the shirt back.

“Exactly!” Shion said, “It’s my favourite! Leave this one for me!”

Nezumi was a few seconds away from facepalming, but decided that him facepalming was a bit lame, and he had street cred to uphold, you know. “You’re acting like a creep.”

Shion pouted. “But I love wearing this shirt!”

“Fine,” Nezumi said, ruffling Shion’s hair, “I’ll leave that behind.”

**x.x.x.x**

“What’s that?” Shion asked upon seeing Nezumi hide something in the folds of his clothes inside his luggage.

“Nothing.”

Shion narrowed his eyes. “Of course it’s not nothing. Otherwise you wouldn’t hide it.”

“Just leave it.”

“No.”

Nezumi blocked Shion’s way. Shion tried to reach for the luggage, but Nezumi’s arms swatted him away. Shion, however, persisted, and resorted to a dirty tactic by tickling Nezumi.

“That’s dirty!” Nezumi said amongst laughs, fending Shion off, and guarding his luggage.

Soon, Nezumi stopped laughing, and the tickles didn’t work anymore.

Shion was getting annoyed. “Why won’t you let me see it?”

“Because you don’t need to! Just shut up! You’re so fucking annoying!”

Shion looked aghast. “Nezumi… Are you trying to sneak drugs off?”

“Drugs? What the hell, Shion! I don’t do drugs! Seriously, it’s nothing, so just leave it.”

“I won’t rest until you show me what it is.”

“Ha, I’d like to see you try.”

And try Shion did, by employing a dirtier tactic; he put his hands on Nezumi’s waist, put his lips against his, and ground their crotches together.

“You cheater!” Nezumi said, but Shion kissed him again, and he kissed back.

Soon, they fell on the bed with Shion straddling him. Shion’s hand left Nezumi’s waist and travelled to… the open luggage beside him, where he hurried to grab what Nezumi hid between his clothes.

When he finally grabbed it, he quickly sprung away from Nezumi, who was now sporting a tented pair of sweatpants.

“You fucking tease,” Nezumi said. “You’ve gotta do something about this,” he added, pointing to his crotch.

“Maybe later,” Shion said, looking at the thing that Nezumi so desperately tried to hide. It was his leather journal where he wrote notes about his craft, like how to improve, references, tips and tricks from his professors, and his own observations. It even contained a few poems and sonnets that he wrote himself. It’s natural that Nezumi would want to bring it, but what Shion couldn’t understand is why Nezumi was so adamant on him not seeing it.

“It’s just your journal.” Shion said, “What a let-down.”

“I told you that it’s no big deal,” Nezumi said, striding towards him, with a smirk, “Now, could you continue what you were doing earlier?”

“Fine, fine,” the other said, and was about to kiss Nezumi when an idea struck him. He shoved Nezumi aside and ran to the living room, leaving Nezumi to follow him.

“Unless you’ve put something inside that you didn’t want me to see!” Shion said, settling on the couch, opening Nezumi’s journal to see what Nezumi was so desperately trying to hide.

“Godfuckingdammit,” Nezumi said, flopping down on the couch beside Shion. There was no use in trying to win his journal back because Shion had already saw what he was hiding. “That’s why I didn’t want you to see it!”

“You told me that I’m a creep when you’re actually the creeper,” Shion said, barely containing his amusement, “When did you take these, by the way?”

Inserted between the folds of Nezumi’s journal were seven Polaroid photos. One was a photo of the both of them after Nezumi’s class’ November production of _As You Like It_. Shion asked Professor Michaelis to take that photo of them sitting on the empty stage. (Shion was always asking Nezumi’s professors to take photos of them, and he’s sure that the other only did it to tease him.) The second one was a photo of Hamlet, Cravat, and Tsukiyo eating bread crumbs on their coffee table. (They released the mice from the cage from time to time to play with them.). The third was a photo of their right hands, rings on their fingers visible. (Shion took that one. He’s a major sap.) The fourth photo shows Shion reading _Wuthering Heights_ on the couch inside the library. (Nezumi took that photo after Shion had insisted on taking a ‘candid’ photo of him reading a few minutes before.). The fifth is a photo of Shion grinning after having his thesis topic approved. (Nezumi was waiting for him outside of his classroom, Polaroid in hand and ready to snap what would surely be a victorious Shion.)

The two remaining photos were something that Shion hadn’t seen before, hence asking when Nezumi had taken them. The sixth was a photo of him in the kitchen preparing something, his back facing the camera. The seventh showed him sleeping.

“The one in the kitchen was from last year, and the Sleeping Beauty one was last summer. Now, can I have my journal back? And put those photos inside.”

“You’re always calling me a sap, but you’re actually the sappy one,” Shion said, doing what Nezumi asked him to do. He handed the journal back and said, “Was it really necessary to have that many photos of me?”

“Yes, it absolutely is. Now, are you going to continue what you did to distract me earlier or not?”

“Okay, okay, stop being so needy.”

**x.x.x.x**

“NEZUMI, YOU CAN’T BRING YOUR ENTIRE LIBRARY TO NEW YORK!”

“WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO READ THERE THEN?”

Shion sighed. “I gave you a Kindle two Christmases ago. Use that.”

Nezumi scoffed. “E-books won’t substitute to the real thing.”

“I know that most bookworms like you feel that way, but think about this logically! Just buy new books over there, and bring your Kindle with softcopies of your favourites. You’ll save more space by doing that.”

“Fine. But what am I going to do with the books that I’m gonna buy over there?”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there. But for now, I know that there’s no way you’ll leave this behind,” Shion said, and put in Nezumi’s hands _The Complete Collection of William Shakespeare’s Works_.

**x.x.x.x**

“You know that you can buy those over there, right?” Shion said.

“The products there are created for Westerners. I need these because they’re more suited for Asians,” Nezumi said, shoving pouch after pouch of his moisturisers, toners, and whatnots.

“There!” Nezumi said, closing his third (and smallest) luggage.

“You forgot your make-up, Eve.”

“I don’t need it. I doubt that I’ll be able to perform there anyway.”

“But what about your shampoo and conditioner in the bathroom? Didn’t you say that you’re going to bring those?”

“…Dammit! Help me find a space for those!”

**xxx---xxx---xxx---xxx**

_January 3, 2019, 2:33 PM_

“Are you sure you didn’t forget anything? Important documents, chargers, toothbrush?” Shion said, digging in on his pizza. Helping Nezumi pack up took up a huge part of the day, which resulted in them ordering pizza for a late lunch.

And of course, huddling under the kotatsu while watching NatGeo as they ate.

“I’ve just got a couple of shoes to pack,” Nezumi said, dripping hot sauce on his slice of pepperoni and mushroom.

When all slices had been consumed, they snuggled closer to each other under the kotatsu. The only way that they could combat the cold January air was by sharing body heat, cranking on the heater, taking showers at the same to use the hot water simultaneously, or by burying themselves under warm covers.

“So warm,” Shion said, “You won’t have a kotatsu in New York, or anyone to cuddle with.”

“Same as you,” Nezumi answered, “But you’ll still have the kotatsu, which is unfair.”

“I’m gonna miss you so much.”

“Me too.”

“Maybe we should take a selfie.”

“Why?” 

“For my new wallpaper.”

“Fine.”

“Don’t scowl.”

“I’m not scowling!”

So Shion held his phone aloft and took a photo of them. And then he took another, where Nezumi kissed his cheek, and then another, where the both of them leaned in to meet each other’s lips, until phones and selfies were forgotten, and all thoughts have been consumed by the heat emanating from each other’s skin.

**x.x.x.x**

“That home screen wallpaper is hideous,” Nezumi said, pointing out Shion’s home screen wallpaper—the selfie that he snapped earlier where Nezumi kissed his cheek.

“I think it’s adorable,” Shion replied. “But the mice as my lock screen wallpaper was more adorable. It even matches our phone charms.”

“Not as adorable as mine,” Nezumi said, brandishing his phone which showed a sleeping Shion, different from the sleeping Shion Polaroid photo tucked inside his journal.

“Why do you have so much photos of me sleeping? That’s not creepy, by the way, not creepy at all.” Shion said.

“Because it’s when you’re quiet and not nagging me to do stuff,” Nezumi replied.

Shion smacked his arm. “Smart ass.”

“You love my ass.”

“Shut up and make us dinner.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Nezumi said in a female’s voice, sashaying away with an exaggerated sway of his hips.

**xxx---xxx---xxx---xxx**

_January 4, 2019, 10:12 AM_

With Christmas break still in effect, and with the snow piling up in front of Inukashi’s shelter, the volunteers decided to visit and help with whatever task they could do.

Makoto was still on a paid leave from his job as a coach at a nearby swimming club, and Haru was still on a break from his training. Kou, Rei, Nagisa, Nitori, and Momo were also still on winter break. Rin and Sousuke, whose flight back to Australia was in a week, decided to spend some time with their friends before they left Japan, yet again. Even Conan and his friends (and Ran and Sonoko), who just got back from Osaka, came to help with the dogs and other tasks, making the most out of their winter break before classes resumed.

“Nezumi-oniichan, Nezumi-oniichan!” Ayumi said, interrupting Nezumi from washing a dog, “Is it true what Inukashi-san said? That you’re leaving tomorrow? They seemed really happy when they said that you were leaving, but Ayumi was really sad. Are you not going to read to us anymore?”

“Your Shion-oniichan will still read to you when he’s not busy with his classes. And I’ll come back in March,” Nezumi replied.

“Really?” Ayumi said happily, “Please send us pretty pictures from New York!”

“See, Ayumi?” Mitsuhiko said, “I told you that Nezumi-oniisan would come back. I doubt that he’ll leave Shion-oniisan behind.”

Nezumi thought, _kids say the darnedest things_.

“Hey, Detective Boys. I have a job for you,” Nezumi said, and Ayumi, Mitsuhiko, and Genta looked at him excitedly, while Conan and Haibara only looked at him with mild interest. “Take care of Shion for me while I’m gone.”

The tone of voice that Nezumi used when he said that statement only confirmed what Conan (and Haibara) suspected long ago. He used that tone when talking about Ran, and Hattori would sometimes use that tone absentmindedly when talking about Kazuha. Conan was certain that if they weren’t children, his suspicions would already be confirmed with stolen kisses when Nezumi thought that no one was looking.

Ayumi, Mitsuhiko, and Genta looked at Nezumi with wonder in their eyes, as if realising something, but still not fully comprehending it.

“We will!” the three kids said.

**x.x.x.x**

_January 4, 2019, 3:01 PM_

Shion and Nezumi usually stayed in the shelter until closing time (or longer), but Nezumi had a 10 AM flight tomorrow, which meant that they needed to leave at 7 AM if they wanted to arrive at Narita International Airport without hassles. Nezumi argued that they could stay a little longer, because it had been a long time since Shion spent time with Inukashi and the dogs because of his thesis, but Shion had insisted that Nezumi get some proper rest.

So they left, and Nezumi said goodbye to his ‘friends’ in Tokyo. (He still couldn’t think of them as friends, no matter how many times they had spent with each other.)

“Nezumi-kun, please take this with you,” Kou said, “It’s a safety charm I got from the nearby shrine.”

“Oh... Thank you,” he said, surprised that someone went through the trouble of getting something for him, “Keep an eye on him for me, will ya?”

“Sure thing,” Kou replied, “Take care over there.”

And before he and Shion could truly leave, he told Inukashi and Safu to take care of Shion, to which the two of them replied, “You don’t need to remind us.”

**xxx---xxx---xxx---xxx**

_January 4, 2019, 8:02 PM_

“Do you want some camomile tea to help you sleep?” Shion asked.

“No,” Nezumi answered, “Just stay here with me.”

Nezumi got up from the couch and took Shion’s hand. He placed his hands around Shion’s waist, so Shion had no choice but to put his arms around Nezumi’s neck. Nezumi hummed disjointed notes, swaying to the absent beat.

“This is drastically different from when you waltzed with me when we were 16,” Shion said, swaying to Nezumi’s humming.

“Would you prefer that I waltz with you right now?” Nezumi said.

“Maybe next time. I prefer this closeness. It’ll be another two and a half months before I can have you this close to me again,” Shion said, dropping his head to Nezumi’s shoulder.

Nezumi rubbed the other’s back while still dancing to a silent tune. He kissed Shion’s forehead and said, “I’m going to miss you so much. And don’t worry; I’m going to call you every day.”

“Provided that we’re both not busy with the 10 hours time difference.”

“I’ll message you on Skype. Or Viber. Or whatever messaging app kids use these days.”

“You can always Snapchat me. And I prefer Skype or Viber. Free calls if you’re connected to the Internet. Plus, you can send images without the time limit.”

“Okay. Fine. We can also try having Skype sex. Phone sex and sexting are always an option, too. Don’t forget.”

“Let’s just hope that we’re not too tired to do anything but talk.”

“Then we shall make time.”

“You think you can survive for almost three months with just your right hand?”

“Look who’s talking. And that’s what Skype is for.”

“I doubt I’ll be able to think about my sex life with my thesis defence coming up. And I doubt that you’ll be able to message me every now and then with your internship.”

“We’ll make it work. We always do.”

“I know.”

“All this talk about sex is making me hard. One last fuck before I leave?”

“But we need to get up early.”

“C’mon Shion, we won’t get to do this again until March.”

“...Okay.”

**xxx---xxx---xxx---xxx**

_January 4, 2019, 9:21 PM_

After Nezumi fucked him deeply and slowly until Shion moaned and begged for release, there was nothing left to do but have the post-coital snuggling and pillow talk. They would have went for another round, but they really needed to sleep because they needed to wake up at 6 AM the following day.

“Send me photos of the city,” Shion said.

“Just the city? You don’t want photos of my face and dick?”

Shion playfully slapped his arm. “You’re gross.”

“Says the person who had my cock inside his mouth a few minutes ago,” Nezumi retorted.

Shion turned away from him, giving Nezumi the chance to turn him into the little spoon.

“Aww, did I offend His Majesty’s delicate sensibilities?”

“Shut up and cuddle me.”

Nezumi kissed his shoulder. “I love you.”

“I love you, too. And I’m going to miss you lot. But I never wished that you wouldn’t have to go away. You know that I’m so proud of you, and I want you to improve in whatever way you can.”

“I know,” Nezumi said, kissing the ring on Shion’s right hand, “And I know that you’ll do extremely well in your defence. I just hate it that I won’t be there when you defend your thesis.”

“Don’t worry about my thesis. Worry about how you’ll do there. You speak English fairly well, so I’m not worrying about you and language barriers. But what about the people you’ll meet and the new culture you’ll have to adapt to?”

“Don’t worry about me. I can handle it. Now, go to sleep, okay?”

And they both went to sleep, Shion facing Nezumi so that his head lay on the other’s chest, the beating of Nezumi’s heart serving as his lullaby.

Nezumi held Shion tighter, and this, for him, was more than enough to fall asleep.

**xxx---xxx---xxx---xxx**

_January 5, 2019, 6:08 AM_

Last month, before winter break began, Professor Midford oriented Nezumi about how his New York internship would go. She showed him pictures of the apartment that he’d be staying in for two and a half months. It was a decent studio apartment, not too small or too big for one person. It looked like it was smaller than the flat that he shared with Shion.

Sometimes, Shion would wake up ahead of him, so he’d surprise him by sneaking up on him and hugging him from behind. Shion would be startled and he’d almost drop the ladle, but he’d smile and give Nezumi a good morning kiss.

It’s little things like that that he’ll gravely miss. It’s little things like the way Shion’s brows would furrow when in deep concentration, or how Shion would sometimes bat him away while he’s watching NatGeo and he wants some sexytimes. He’ll miss a lot of things. He’ll miss holding Shion’s hands when walking home on the way from uni. He’ll miss his voice whenever he reads to the mice, and the mess of papers on their coffee table as Shion slaves away for his studies.

But none of this is permanent, and he’ll return home soon.

**x.x.x.x**

The doorbell rang, and Shion hurried to open it.

“Good morning, mum!” he greeted happily, as if he hadn’t seen her just last Christmas.

“Good morning, Shion,” Karan said, hugging her son.

“Nezumi’s in the kitchen preparing breakfast,” Shion said, leading his mother to the kitchen.

“But what about these breads that I brought for you?”

“Then we’ll have Nezumi bring some, and then leave some here. He wanted to eat a Japanese breakfast before he leaves.”

“At least I can give some to your mice.”

Just then, Nezumi emerged from the kitchen, wearing the apron that Karan gave him a few years back. “Good morning, Karan,” Nezumi said, hugging her, “Please tell me that you’ve brought cherry cake.”

“Of course I did,” she said, dropping a kiss on Nezumi’s forehead, “Now, let’s set up breakfast, shall we?”

**x.x.x.x**

Karan first noticed the rings when her boys visited her last Christmas. She saw Shion and Nezumi drop the rings in their aprons’ pockets as they got ready to knead the dough. Later, she called Nezumi aside under the guise of wanting “help to carry some things,” when in reality, she took him outside through the back door and talked to him.

“I’ve seen the rings, Nezumi,” she said, looking him in the eyes, “I’m so happy for the both of you.”

“Karan, it’s not what you think,” he replied, panicking because she was starting to cry, “Those are not engagement rings. More like promise rings. I just... I just wanted to give him something nice, okay? Something nice before I left.”

“But does that mean that you’ll propose to my son soon?”

“...Yes. Maybe. I don’t know. I’ve gotta make sure that we have a stable income first. I don’t want to propose to him when we still don’t have enough money in our bank accounts.”

Karan hugged him. “Just know that you’ve always been a part of this family, and marriage will only make it legal.”

And now, Karan looked at her boys—her sons—exchanging silly banters while setting up the table, and all she could feel was joy.

**xxx---xxx---xxx---xxx**

_January 5, 2019, 7:03 AM_

They rode a cab to Narita International Airport shortly after eating a hearty breakfast. Nezumi consumed three slices of cherry cakes, even if he had already eaten two bowls of rice beforehand.

They loaded all three luggage into the cab. Nezumi’s carry on bag, a nondescript rucksack, was slung over his shoulders. Karan sat in the shotgun seat, while Nezumi and Shion sat in the back, furtively holding hands.

Shion leaned into him, and Nezumi ran his fingers through the white strands. They didn’t care that Karan or the cabbie saw them in an intimate moment. It would be another two and half months before they could have each other this close again.

**x.x.x.x**

_January 5, 2019, 8:56 AM_

“I should get ready to check in,” Nezumi said, gripping the strap of rucksack tightly.

“Oh well,” Karan said, “I guess I’ll see you this March.” She hugged him and kissed his forehead, saying, “I’m so proud of you, Nezumi. I hope that you do well in New York.”

“Thank you, Karan,” he said, “See you in March. And I know that I don’t need to say this, but take care of Shion for me.”

“You know that I always do,” she said, “Now give my son that goodbye kiss.”

Nezumi blushed, but still walked towards Shion.

“Well,” he said, “I guess this is it.”

“See you in March,” Shion said. Nezumi was only eight centimetres taller than him, so all he had to do was crane his neck upwards to meet his lips.

Nezumi would love to deepen the kiss, but all he got to do was a quick teasing of Shion’s tongue and nibbling of his lower lip. He was afraid that he wouldn’t want to leave if he took things further.

He held Shion in his arms and embraced him as tight as physics would allow. He dropped a kiss to his forehead and to his lips, not wanting to ever release him.

“Tone down the sarcasm over there, okay? You might get in trouble,” Shion said.

“I’ll try, but I make no promises,” he replied.

“Don’t buy too many books or lingerie. You might have trouble bringing them back.”

“Don’t forget to feed the mice.”

“Don’t think about upstaging the drag queens.”

“Stop being too nice. People will fall for you and get the wrong idea.”

“I know that you’ll be an excellent intern.”

“And I know that you’ll ace your defence.”

Nezumi looked at Shion’s eyes one last time, and dropped a quick kiss to his lips, then to the ring on his right hand. “See you in March, my Prince. I love you. I love you so much.”

“I love you, too.”

And with one last caress to Shion’s hair and hands, Nezumi said goodbye to Shion and Karan, leaving Japan behind.

 

 

**XXV.**

_January 6, 2019, 1:30 AM, New York // January 6, 2019, 11:30 AM, Tokyo_

“The bed in this flat is pretty cosy,” Nezumi said into the phone he was holding in the air. “But not as cosy as ours.”

“Are you sure that you want to talk to me?” Shion’s face from his phone said, “You just landed in New York and I have a feeling that you’re tired and jetlagged.”

“Never mind that. Are you sure that it’s okay for you to Skype in the library?”

“I’m speaking as softly as possible in the least populated area here.”

“Ooh, a little rebel. I think you’re spending too much with me.”

“And I think that you’re too groggy to have an actual conversation with me. Go to sleep, Nezumi. And don’t call me until you’ve eaten breakfast and seen the sights. I want you to tell me a lot of stories about your day. I can wait.”

In another circumstance, he would have argued, but Nezumi was really tired. “Okay. Good night. I love you.”

“I love you, too. Sleep well.”

**xxx---xxx---xxx---xxx**

_January 6, 2019, 8:04 AM, New York_

When he woke up, he panicked for a second before realising that he was in New York, and not Tokyo. He woke up to a different ceiling, a different bed, different pillows (that were much softer than his lumpy ones, but he still preferred those lumpy pillows), different sheets, and the absence of a certain white-haired man beside him.

He looked around his new quarters. The pictures that Ms. Midford showed him were near-accurate descriptions of this unit; it looked smaller in the pictures, whereas it was actually a tad bigger in person.

As far as furnished flats go, this one wasn’t that bad for a studio apartment in one of the busiest cities in the world. His bedroom has a twin-sized mattress and drab beige sheets, and a medium-sized window covered by a curtain. His luggage sat unpacked near the closet, and, much to his amusement, there was a small vanity dresser in the corner of the room. The kitchen had a four-range stove, a fridge, three cabinets, and a window above the sink that showed his neighbourhood (more buildings). There was also a table that could only possibly fit two people, hence the two chairs that accompanied it. There was a couch that was too small to be a couch; it might as well have been a loveseat; a small plasma telly, DVD player, and decent table. The bathroom wasn’t bad; there was a bathtub, a shower, a toilet, and cabinets, although it was really small, and, if and only if, he could bring Shion here, shower sex would have been impossible. Unless they do it in the bathtub, but that would be really uncomfortable for both parties.

The flat also came with glasses, plates, and utensils. Professor Midford assured him that this unit had been personally handpicked by the university’s president Isana Yashiro, and thus, was completely sanitary.

The best part is that the unit has its own WiFi connection, so he wouldn’t have to worry about competing with the other tenants for the apartment complex’s free WiFi.

He got up from the bed, and looked to the luggage that seemed to call out to him. _Unpacking will have to wait_ , Nezumi thought as he changed his clothes. He threw over what he wore at Narita airport yesterday—a coat, his black scarf, and a beanie, an overcoat, and wore some gloves to combat the cold outside. He’d wear his biker jacket (street cred and all that jazz) if it weren’t so cold.

Since he only arrived in New York a few hours ago, the fridge was still empty, and the whole flat smelled like a storage room. He would start reporting at the office tomorrow, so he might have to allot cleaning hours every day, or just ignore cleaning the whole week, and clean the flat in one go this coming Saturday.

He followed Shion’s advice about eating breakfast and seeing the sights. The last meal he had was almost twelve hours ago, and airline food didn’t taste that good. Were he in Tokyo, Shion and he would most likely cook rice and grill fish if they hadn’t woken up late, but he was in the Big Apple now, so rice meals wouldn’t be as abundant as bagels, burgers, or sandwiches.

The streets were lined with skyscrapers, budding trees, pedestrians, and cyclists, and the roads were filled with vehicles trying to beat the morning rush hour.

In his quest to find a place to eat breakfast, he reached 42nd Street[9], and was greeted by a looming red-bricked building. It was reminiscent of his uni’s red-brick walls and the tree-lined pedestrian lanes in Tokyo. New York, he supposed, was a bit like Tokyo, but whereas Tokyo’s streets were litter-free, New York was a bit... dirtier. And with less trees. Maybe he’d have to go to the Central Park to see nature.

Between Burger King and Dunkin Donuts, he chose the former. The Drama Department gave him an allowance for all his expenses, and all he had to do now was budget smartly. Not to mention the $315 that he’d receive weekly from the Manhattan Theatre Club[10], and the money he saved up from his work.

**xxx---xxx---xxx---xxx**

_January 6, 2019, 9:22 AM, New York // January 6, 2019, 7:22 PM, Tokyo_

He wanted to see the city more, but he had three luggages to unpack, so after eating an unhealthy breakfast of burger, fries, and a can of soda, he went straight home... and opened his Skype account.

“Did you explore the city?” Shion asked from Nezumi’s phone. Nezumi had his laptop on a table, so from Tokyo, Shion could see him unpacking, and from New York, Nezumi could see Shion drinking a mug of coffee and flipping through the pages of his thesis.

“Not yet,” Nezumi said, removing clothes from his luggage, “I still haven’t unpacked. I will explore the city later, maybe find bookstores and libraries.”

“Hmm...” Shion mumbled. Every now and then, Shion would write something on the hardcopy of his thesis, presumably supplying some needed information that his thesis adviser pointed out. “How are you settling there?”

“I can’t say yet. Maybe I’ll have a verdict by the end of the week. So how’s your thesis? Your adviser still a pain in the ass?”

“He just wants the best for me, but sometimes I feel that he wants to write this study instead of me,” he said, “Do you mind if I eat dinner?”

“You can eat dinner and I’d still prefer to watch that than the telly.”

“I’ll pretend that you didn’t just say that.”

“Don’t tell anyone that I just said that.”

“Too late; I’m recording this conversation.”

“Ha ha, very funny.”

“You want to hear a playback?”

“I’d rather not.”

Nezumi did just that—watch Shion take bites of dinner while editing his thesis. Shion, on the other hand, would glance to his laptop every three minutes or so, just watching Nezumi unpack. Sometimes, he’d say, “You have your skin maintenance products in that pouch in the smallest luggage,” or “I put your scarves at the very bottom of the brown one,” or “Did you really bring ten tins of those mouse-shaped biscuits?”

But Nezumi has to eat lunch, and Shion has to continue editing his research without distractions. They uttered their ‘I miss you’s’ and turned off their laptops, waiting for the next time that they’d see each other again on the tiny screens.

Suddenly, Nezumi had an urge to bury himself in poetries and find the right sonnet to describe his longing. There was a whole ocean between them, and he felt that computer screens would never be more than enough to substitute to the real thing.

**xxx---xxx---xxx---xxx**

_January 7, 2019, 10:00 AM, New York_

Nezumi arrived at the Manhattan Theatre Club office at 43rd Street at exactly 10 AM. There were at least 20 other interns for the Spring Term, and from what he could tell, 5 of them were international applicants like him.

The application form allowed potential interns to choose four departments, but Nezumi was a special case; he was a trainee sent by Nezumi’s uni, which was a partner of MTC, and thus, his application process went smoother[11]. He applied for the production assistant position, but the PAs have a different application process than the rest of the positions. Nezumi chose this position because he believed that being a PA would give him the most valuable experience, because he could work from pre-production to rehearsals to production proper. Sure, he couldn’t perform onstage, but their classes trained them to work on whatever part of the stage or the production process.

He was confident that he could do the tasks of a production assistant effectively.

 **x.x.x.x**

Interns are required to punch their time in the time clock at the office hours of 10 AM–6 PM. They’ll be required to attend seminars or lectures, receive free and discounted tickets, have their own desk, computer, and e-mail account, among other things.

However, Nezumi already knew all of those things, because it was written on MTC’s website, and Professor Midford had told him as well.

So after he was shown to his desk and briefed once more by the Production Office Head, he was ushered to the theatre where he’d begin his duties as a PA.

“You might get a bit lonely because all other interns are in the other departments and you’re the only one in PA,” the Head said, “But don’t worry; there’ll be MTC PAs to assist you. And each prod team has its own PA. Moreover, you’ll most likely run into the other interns during rehearsals and productions. Plus, the prod that I’ll be assigning you has a lot of good guys, so you don’t have to worry about getting along with them. There are times when you might have to switch to other prods, but the one that I’ll show you later is your main prod.”

They reached the theatre, and the Head opened the door. “Come on then. I’ll introduce you to the lot.”

 

 

**XXVI.**

_January 7, 2019, 11:28 AM, New York_

The Supernatural novels published by Carver Edlund (real name: Chuck Shurley) used names from Chuck’s friends, acquaintances, enemies, and a whole lot more from the list of people he knew from the drama club and/or his high school. The problem was, he didn’t alter those names, nor change the appearances or attitude or traits of those people/characters. It was essentially an alternate universe fanfiction—or an RPF (real person fiction)—based on the people that he knew in real life.

That earned him a lot of crap from those people, especially since they only knew about what Chuck did after having ten volumes published. Yes, ten volumes. Chuck had been writing those stories for five years and those people only knew that they had been used as a fodder for Chuck’s stories after five years, so there was nothing they could do. They could sue him, but that would require a lot of time, effort, and money, and really, they couldn’t be arsed to sue someone. They learned to just deal and live with it. Sure, those books had the disclaimer, “All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental,” but the people who had been used felt uncomfortable knowing that someone used them in a story. However, _Supernatural_ was a cult hit, so those people enjoyed their fame (in a way).

Still, not all had been pleased. There were a lot of fights and scuffles, and lawyers almost got involved, but incidents were all behind them now as Supernatural celebrated its 20th volume and tenth anniversary.

Chuck was going to celebrate the 10th anniversary of his novels by having a stage play based on those books, and what better way to celebrate but to cast the people the characters were based on. Thankfully, a majority of them were from Chuck’s high school drama club (where he was the scriptwriter), so the performances couldn’t be _that_ bad. Some even majored in drama in uni, and some were even in the acting profession, like directors, editors, production staff, and even rising Hollywood stars. Needless to say, a majority of the cast had acting experience, and Chuck’s only problem was how to make the characters based on non-actors act.

The thing was, it was unknown to Chuck’s readers that the characters of his novels were based on real life people. He planed to reveal this fact at the end of the first and only showing of the play (because let’s face it, while a majority of the cast could act, some of them still couldn’t). He hoped that the audience and fans would be thrilled by this little gift. 

**x.x.x.x**

They were rehearsing when the doors opened, revealing the Head of the Production Office and a new kid in tow. _Uh oh_ , Chuck thought, _a new intern_. Drama interns in the theatre were generally made to be production assistants and do backstage work kind of things, and he was not sure how that would help them become better actors. Maybe it was something about starting at the bottom of the food chain and keeping your feet planted on the ground. However, this year, Chuck was determined to make the interns do more thespian things. Of course, set productions, make-up and prosthetics, and costume interns could at least have some practise for their craft, but drama major interns never got to perform. All they do, besides the ‘initiation rites’ like making or buying coffee and running errands, is observe, take notes, and wait for an order. Chuck wanted to change that, and even if MTC interns had those seminars supplement their learnings, putting into practise what you’ve learned is still the best method to improve.

“Hey everyone. How’s the rehearsal?” the Head said, and everyone shouted their replies. The Head continued, “This is Nezumi, the new intern-slash-PA. He’s Japanese and he only arrived here in New York yesterday, so be good to him!”

Everyone murmured their assent, and shouted in unison, “Welcome, Nezumi!” as the Head left.

The kid—Nezumi—didn’t look bothered, or embarrassed, or however it was that interns looked when they first meet their workmates or bosses. He looked expressionless, and Chuck couldn’t deduce if Nezumi was happy to be here or not.

He supposes that Nezumi’s leaning more towards the not happy side, because interns would prefer to be assigned to professional productions, but there he was in a group of mixed professionals, semi-professionals, beginners, and people who were completely shit in acting.

“Hi, Nezumi. I’m Chuck Shurley, executive producer of the play. Just call me Chuck,” he said, stretching his hand.

Nezumi shook the offered hand and said, “Pleasure, Chuck.”

He seemed to be completely cool about addressing him by his first name, when other interns would usually be too shy to be on a first-name basis with their boss.

“Chuck is also the scriptwriter and author of the novels this play is based on,” a redheaded woman said, “I’m Charlie Bradbury, the director. Call me Charlie. That lanky guy over there is Garth, one of our PAs. You can ask him questions about your position, if you have some. And this here is the stage manager Kevin Tran, and he’ll show you the ropes.”

“Hey, Nezumi, right? I’m Kevin,” Kevin said, shaking Nezumi’s hand, “Has the Head told you what this play is about?”

“He only said that this is for the 10th anniversary of a series of novels called _Supernatural_ and that the cast is made up of pros and non-pros, but apart from that, I don’t know anything.”

“So you’ve never read the books?”

“No. At least not yet. I’m more into classic literature.”

“Well, Nezumi, do yourself and us a favour and _don’t_ read it. Chuck used people he knows in real life as the characters in those novels, and it’s pretty awkward for us. Thankfully, I don’t show up until the seventh volume, and this play will only cover the first to the fifth volume.”

“When will be the opening night?”

“This April. While most of the cast are pro actors, some aren’t, and we have to do rehearsals that will work around their schedules. So this means that while you’re primarily assigned to this prod, you’ll also be assigned to other prods.”

Chuck left Kevin to orient Nezumi. (There was no doubt that the new intern was sick of orientations and briefings.) He went back to observing the rehearsals as Charlie directed the actors on the stage about the proper blocking.

**x.x.x.x**

“I’m really sorry if I can’t act, but I’m a lawyer, not an actor!” Sam said, frustration creeping into his tone, “And I want to make this work for you guys, but I apologise if I can’t act properly.”

“Aww Sammy, you don’t need to act! Just be yourself. Remember that this character is basically you, only that he’s not a lawyer but a monster and ghost hunter,” Gabriel said, munching on a chocolate bar.

“I hate saying this, but Gabe’s right,” Dean said, “Just be yourself, little bro.”

This was what Chuck feared. Dean Winchester was a rising Hollywood star, so he didn’t have any problems acting. Gabriel Novak, while a successful pastry chef and businessman, was not having any problems acting like himself (“See Gabe here? He’s acting like the dick he is. Take his example!” “Harsh words, Dean-o, harsh words!”). However, Sam Winchester, a lawyer who graduated from Stanford with Latin honours, was definitely not an actor. It was true that Chuck didn’t change a single thing about his characters’ attitudes, and he was really grateful that Sam took time off his very busy schedule to participate in this shindig, but he needed to act good, and he needed to do it now.

Well, specifically, it’s Charlie who needed the good acting because she was the director, but Chuck couldn’t help but be involved since this is an offshoot of his creation and all.

“I think we could all use a break,” Charlie said, “Sam, follow me.”

Chuck was sure that Charlie going to give him the pep talk. Gabriel, meanwhile, pestered Dean about something. Kevin was still talking to Nezumi about intern-y things, and as he looked at Nezumi, a brilliant idea struck him.

“Hey Nezumi,” he called, and said boy walked towards him.

“Besides pre-prod and prod assistance, you can act, right? I mean, you’re a drama major and all,” Chuck said, and Nezumi responded by nodding. “See that tall man that Charlie is talking to? That’s Sam, a brilliant lawyer, but a horrible actor. Think you can give him some tips?”

“Director Bradbury seems to already be giving him tips,” Nezumi said.

“Don’t call her ‘Director Bradbury’. She’ll throw you off Reichenbach Falls, or off the roof of St Barts.’ Just call her ‘Charlie.’ Anyway, here, look at the script. Tell me, what do you think of Sam’s character?”

Nezumi spent a few minutes reading the script, and answered later, “He seems to be a very dedicated brother.”

“Exactly. Just like the real-life Sam Winchester over there. Hey Charlie, could you bring Sam here?”

Chuck saw Charlie shrug, but still brought Sam to where Chuck and Nezumi were.

“I told him to stop worrying too much,” Charlie said.

“Nezumi has a few words of wisdom for you,” Chuck said.

“Nezumi? Oh, the new intern. Hi, I’m Sam. Nice meeting you. Sorry if I can’t act,” Sam said, shaking the intern’s hand.

Nezumi looked at Chuck as if asking him about what to do. After all, he did throw Nezumi into the ocean without preamble.

 

“I asked him to read the script. He said that Sam ‘seems to be a very dedicated brother’. And I said that it’s just like the real life Sam. See? Here is a complete stranger to the novel, a new pair of eyes who doesn’t know anything about you and your brother, yet he deduced from the script that you’re a good sibling.

“Just be yourself, Sam. Forget about acting. Just change professions for a few hours and be a hunter instead of a lawyer,” Chuck said.

Sam nodded. Charlie clapped him in the back, and said that he’s ready.

“You okay, Sammy?” Dean asked.

“Yeah,” he replied, “I think I’m good.”

**xxx---xxx---xxx---xxx**

“Nezumi,” Chuck said over afternoon snacks of coffee and biscuits, “Are you interested in becoming an extra for the prod?”

The intern’s eyes widened, puzzled and asking for an elaboration.

“Drama major interns don’t usually get to act, and I want to change that. So, how about it?”

“Thank you, but,” Nezumi said, “I leave for Tokyo this March, and the prod night isn’t until April. But I appreciate it, Chuck.”

“Oh,” Chuck said. He really, really wants to make and see Nezumi act, but now the world doesn’t seem to want that to happen.

However, there’s _that_ one thing. It’s not acting per se, but at least he and the Impala Productions (as what Dean unofficially named their crew) could have a glimpse of Nezumi’s talent.

He was in Nezumi’s position once. He was an intern for a magazine that did nothing but burn him out, and he doesn’t want that to happen to anyone.

“Make yourself free on the night of the 25th. Don’t ask why,” Chuck said.

“...Okay,” Nezumi replied cautiously.

Chuck left, announcing to everyone to not plan anything for the night of the 25th.

**xxx---xxx---xxx---xxx**

_January 7, 2019, 8:11 PM, New York // January 8, 2019, 6:11 AM, Tokyo_

“...And then he asked me if I wanted to be an extra for the prod. Of course I wanted to, but the opening night is in April, so I have no choice but to decline,” Nezumi said from his laptop. He was lying on his bed, watching Shion prepare breakfast from their Tokyo flat.

“At least he offered,” Shion replied, “But did you have fun on your first day?”

“I can’t say that it was exactly fun. It’s just like every other production we had, only that I’m working backstage instead of the centre stage. Not that I don’t know how to work backstage. I haven’t learned anything worth putting in my journal yet.”

“Well, it’s just your first day. I’m sure that you’ll learn new things as time goes by.”

“And oh, Chuck told us to make ourselves free on the night of January 25th. I don’t know why. Which means that maybe I can’t call you that night.”

“I understand. Safu and I are having dinner at that restaurant that Conan-kun and his friends recommend to us.”

“Send me pictures.”

“I will. Go get some rest.”

“Okay. Good morning.”

“Good night.”

“I miss you already.”

“I can’t wait to hug you.”

“Sap.”

“Let’s watch NatGeo when I get back.”

“Yeah, yeah. Now go to sleep. I need to eat my breakfast.”

“Okay. Goodbye, Your Majesty.”

“Bye.”

Nezumi won’t let himself live this down, he blew a kiss towards the webcam to Shion, and Shion, not believing that Nezumi did such a cheesy thing, blew a kiss back. They were laughing, teasing each other, threatening to tell their friends about what actual trashes they actually are, and even if there were more than ten thousand kilometres separating them, that moment could be more than enough. At least for the time being.

 

 

**XXVII.**

_January 16, 2019, 11:24 AM, New York_

“Frak frak frak!” Charlie cursed while furiously smashing buttons on her Nintendo DS, “Kevin, you can’t just beat my Ninetales!”

“Excuse me, but you’re one hydro pump from losing,” Kevin said, “Besides, I’m using Milotic, a water-type Pokemon, against your Ninetales, a fire-type Pokemon. Of course I’d win.”

“No you won’t—argh, dammit! Frak!” Charlie cried, “Rematch!”

While Charlie and Kevin battled it out on Pokemon, Nezumi sat in a corner, reading _The Old Man and the Sea_ by Ernest Hemingway. There’s not much else to do when on a break and when you were waiting for the pizza delivery.

In his eight day of interning, he learned that Charlie, Dean, and Kevin were _huge_ nerds. They’d throw reference after reference to each other, only to be answered by another reference. However, they were more of the pop culture nerds, and while Nezumi could understand a few of those references, he was still more of a book, theatre, and musical fan. Most of the cast were in on the reference battle, but sometimes, he was just lost. Sure, he knew what they meant by _The Shire_ and _Westeros_ and _Mockingjay_ , because he’d read the books, and he was familiar with _Darth Vader_ and _Iron Man_ and _Pikachu_ , but _browncoats_ , _TARDIS_ , and the _Daryl Dixon_ were all lost to him.

However, even with all the geek-isms that he can’t relate to, the Impala Productions has never made him feel out of place. If anything, they always invited him out to that awesome burger place at the corner of the street, or the café across the theatre that MTC personnel and staff always frequent.

Their favourite place is a resto-bar called _The Roadhouse_ at 41st Street. It’s owned by the Winchesters’ family friend, the Harvelles. He was invited to go there a few times before, but he turned them down because he’s still searching for more bookstores in NY.

The pizza arrived, and everyone formed small groups with a box of pizza each. Nezumi ended up with Sam, Dean, and Chuck. Charlie and Kevin, still battling it out with pocket monsters, had a box each.

(“That’s really unfair, Charlie and Kevin!”

“Shut up Garth!”)

“You enjoying your stay here so far, Nezumi?” Dean asked.

“Yes,” Nezumi said, “The people are nice.”

“Aw, of course we are. We’ve known each other since middle school or high school, so we’re pretty tight-knit.”

Charlie and Gabriel often call Sam and Dean as the ‘male underwear model brothers’, and Nezumi could see why. They were both tall, good-looking (#nohomo okay maybe a little bit since he’s in a relationship with another man but he didn’t think of Sam and Dean _that_ way because that’s gross), have muscular bodies (again, #nohomo, just mere observations), and were hella talented. Sam’s a lawyer, Dean’s a Hollywood actor, and they often got hit on by males and females alike whenever they ate out (pun not intended), even if they were both wearing wedding rings.

“If Dean gives you problems,” Sam said, “Just call me as a friend or as a lawyer.”

“Hey, what kind of problems would I give this kid that will warrant a court hearing?” Dean asked.

“I don’t know, maybe if he accidentally scratches your car?”

Dean looked pensive. “Well, that could happen.”

“Oh! That reminds me. One time in high school, Dean broke up with this girl, Bela Talbot, was it? Because she ran her ‘perfectly manicured nails on my Baby’s door’ and ruined the paintjob. Dean’s words, not mine,” Chuck said.

Nezumi learned that the reason why this prod team was called ‘Impala Productions’ was because of Dean’s beloved car, a black 1967 Chevrolet Impala. Nezumi was more of a Harley-Davidson person, but that behemoth of a car was a truly beautiful vehicle. Dean also often got teased about his unhealthy attachment to his car which he often called ‘Baby’. He also frequently reminded them that “my car is a ‘she’, not an ‘it’!” Nezumi also learned to tread carefully when he saw the car.

Nezumi let their conversation drift from cars to cases to horrible co-workers they’ve had. His phone vibrated, revealing a message from Shion.

It was a picture of the white-haired man grinning as he held the front page of his thesis marked with ‘APPROVED FOR DEFENCE’. He was about to send a reply when Dean leaned over his shoulder and asked, “Hey, who’s the guy?”

“My boyfriend,” Nezumi answered as stoically as possible. New York is a liberal place, but there was always a chance of running into homophobes.

“Not as cute as my husband,” Dean said, “And what’s with the hair? And the red mark on his cheek?”

 _Well_ , Nezumi thought, not letting his mild surprise show on his features, _at least I won’t get ridiculed here. Not like I fucking care anyway_.

“What?” Charlie, who was just passing by on her way to throw the pizza box, said, “I honestly didn’t think that you swung that way. Welcome to the club, brother! And oh, Let me see your boyfie! You hardly tell us stories about your personal life!”

 _I don’t swing ‘that’ way_ , Nezumi thought, _it’s just him. It’s only him._

“Because it’s his _personal_ life,” Kevin said.

“Aww, he’s cute!” Charlie said, “Nice hair, by the way. And is that a scar on his cheek?”

“He got the hair and scar from a disease when he was a kid,” Nezumi said in a way that prevented people from asking any more questions about the way Shion looked. He didn’t mind Shion asking too many questions because he’s soooooo used to it, but acquaintances couldn’t just pry into their private lives.

They seemed to get the cue. Charlie asked him, “What’s his name? And oh, you have a really cute mice cell phone charm!”

“Stop asking things and saying a side comment,” Dean said, “You’re suffocating him.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, Disney Princess,” Charlie said, “So? Care to tell us his name?”

“Shion,” he said, “His name is Shion.”

“I can practically hear the love in your voice,” Charlie said, “Sooooooo adorable! But I hope you don’t reach Dean’s level of grossness when he talks about his husband.”

“Excuse me, but Cas and I are not gross,” Dean said.

“Yes, you totally are,” Sam said, “And not in the way that teenagers would refer to something they love as gross—though I’m still confounded as to why they do that—but gross in a way that I want to pretend like I don’t know you.”

And just like what Nezumi always does, he tuned their conversation out and tapped a reply to Shion’s message. _Congratulations_ , he said, _I’m so fucking proud of you. I know you can do it._

Shion’s reply came a few minutes later. _Thank you_ , he said, _do your best over there_ _♥_

Nezumi wanted to grin, but he’s sure the people around him would tease him because they had probably never seen him grin or smile genuinely. Instead, he fiddled with ring on right ring finger, and in that moment, it was more than enough to suppress the pangs of longing he felt.

**xxx---xxx---xxx---xxx**

_January 18, 2019, 6:14 PM, New York_

“Roadhouse?” Dean asked as they packed up for the day, “First round’s on me.”

 _Hells yeah!_ and _Sure!_ and _Something good happened, Winchester?_ were heard throughout the theatre. Nezumi wanted to go, because even though he’d prefer to avoid socialising, the Impala Productions people were genuinely nice, and he needed to spend time with them because it was practically part of his culture.

“Don’t get too worried about getting hammered,” Charlie said, “Chuck will call a cab for us. Just give him your address in advance.”

If he went, this would be his first time getting drunk in New York. If he goes and takes selfies of him having fun with his workmates, Shion would probably say, “Glad you’re having fun!”, and he’d most likely attach a photo of him watching NatGeo with the mice, or a photo of him and that dog keeper as a proof that he was also having fun in Tokyo.

He hadn’t drank in so long. If he got drunk, the cabbie might rob him, or muggers might take him as a target. He can get buzzed, but he can’t get drunk.

And with that resolve, Nezumi voiced an affirmative reply.

**xxx---xxx---xxx---xxx**

_January 18, 2019, 7:33 PM, New York_

Ellen, the owner of The Roadhouse, was a nice but scary woman, Nezumi thought. She’s Sam and Dean’s second mother, and the wife of the Winchester brothers’ second father, Bobby Singer. Jo, Ellen’s daughter from her deceased husband Bill, was equally menacing. Then there’s Ash who’s talking to Charlie about computer stuff that none of them but Sam can (vaguely) understand.

At Dean’s insistence, he ordered a burger. It only took him a bite to take a picture of the burger and send it to Shion, along with the caption _I wish you were here with me eating the most delicious burger in the world (but I’d still prefer eating you ;))_ , and Shion replied with _You’re not drunk yet, right? Why does it feel like you’re already drunk messaging me?_

Nezumi didn’t get drunk, but he did get buzzed. Still, his inhibitions lowered and he felt lighter, causing him to send Shion messages like _ash makes the best booze ever_ and _the burgers are ridiculously good but your mum’s cherry cake is still my favourite_ and _garth is such a lightweight. he only took one sip of heineken and he’s already drunk as fuck_ and _they’re fighting over the jukebox! remember when you’d tell me to stop playing the upright or sing along to a whole new world?_

Nezumi sent Shion a barrage of drunk messages, but Shion only replied with _Go home Nezumi; you’re drunk. Have them call a cab for you. Take care. I love you._

And Nezumi did.

He woke up with a slight hangover, but it was Saturday, and he could afford to sleep in and laze around. But his head was still pounding, and he’d have to wait for a few more hours to see what kind of messages he sent Shion the other night.

He suppressed a shudder, and began missing the times when Shion would nurse him during times like this.

 

 

**XXVIII.**

_January 21, 2019, 8:12 PM, New York // January 22, 2019, 6:12 AM, Tokyo_

Earlier, Nezumi worked on a different production, _Prodigal Son_. Whereas the Impala Productions was made up of pros and non-pros, this new prod team was comprised of an entirely professional crew. The people were just as warm, but he preferred the people from _Supernatural_ , mostly because he had spent more time with them. Still, Nezumi could move about regardless of the company, and seeing professional actors working ignited the thespian in him.

He wanted to act again, but if there was anything that he learned in the two weeks that he’d been in New York, it was that there was no shortcut to being a successful actor, unless you knew some higher-ups. You’ve got to start at the lowest, and while Nezumi and his classmates already knew this because it was what their professors had continuously told them, it was like putting into practice what you only knew in theory.

“Mostly, I helped with the lights and sounds. Nothing too different from what I’m doing for the Impala guys,” Nezumi said.

This was what they usually did every day; Nezumi would log in on Skype at 8 PM, and Shion would wake up at 6 AM to talk to Nezumi and before catching his 7:30 AM class. But sometimes, Nezumi would send him a message that he was too tired to talk, or Shion would say that he couldn’t talk because he had a homework to finish. And they understand each other; they knew that they couldn’t talk every day with how busy they were, and as much as they loved each other, their worlds didn’t entirely revolve around each other.

“And I have to attend a lecture tomorrow so I can’t talk you,” Nezumi said.

“Hopefully, you’ll learn something new,” Shion said, pouring hot water in a cup with a tea bag, “How’s it going with the Impala, by the way? You haven’t seen them since getting drunk last Friday, right?”

“Yeah. They sent me messages though, asking if I got home early. Tomorrow, they’ll start rehearsing for the fourth volume of the series. On Thursday, I’ll be at Prodigal Son again, but on Friday, it’s back to Supernatural.”

“Speaking of Friday, isn’t that the day when Chuck asked you to make yourselves free?”

“Yes. We still don’t have any idea as to what he’s planned though.”

“You’ll find out soon enough.”

**xxx---xxx---xxx---xxx**

_January 22, 2019, 10:09 AM, New York_

Chuck told Nezumi that starting today, he’d see a number of new faces because the fourth volume introduced a new species of characters: the angels. But Chuck didn’t say any more than that; instead, he advised Nezumi to read the books, and Nezumi did. He was still at the third volume, at that chapter entitled _Mystery Spot_ where The Trickster, played by Gabriel Novak, was present. And because Gabriel’s character was rarely in the books, he only rehearsed for three days.

Sam Winchester, thankfully, was acting better. Dean Winchester, his Hollywood actor brother, had no problems performing. (Maybe it was a little awkward working with Bela Talbot, the girl he broke up with during high school for scratching his car, during the third volume rehearsals. Curse Chuck for making her a character in his book.)

Besides the introduction of the angels, there was also a new vessel for Ruby, a demon that frequently appeared in the third volume. This new meatsuit was going to be played by Ruby, Sam’s ex. (Chuck knew two Ruby’s in high school. Volume 3 Ruby was blonde, while Volume 4 Ruby had dark hair.) Dean hated the dark-haired Ruby for what she put his brother through, and Dean didn’t want to see her again, _ever_. He asked Chuck if Nezumi could play the role instead, and Chuck and Nezumi would have agreed if only Nezumi wouldn’t be in Japan on the opening night.

“Dean, you’re a professional actor,” Sam reminded him, “And Ruby is, too. So put everything behind, okay? I’m happily married to Jess now, and Ruby said that she’s only doing this for the money.”

“One wrong move and I’m gonna gank that son of a bitch,” Dean said menacingly.

Sam nodded, but he knew that it was not just an empty threat.

**x.x.x.x**

Nezumi sat in a corner as they waited for more cast members to arrive. He was sensing a tension rising in the air, and he wanted to grab a bowl of popcorn to see how things would unfold.

(He wouldn’t get himself involved. He’d rather watch the world burn.)

“Things are gonna be a bit tense today,” Charlie said, sitting down beside him, “Ruby, Sam’s ex, is going to play the role that Chuck based on her. We tried to find someone who could replace—”

“Hey guys, I received a message from Ruby!” Kevin said, “She said that she’s ditching this project because she received an offer for a better-paying project.”

Dean did a fist pump, and the cast smiled in relief. They would have grilled her for being unprofessional, backing out from her role on the day of the rehearsal itself, but no one really liked her anyway. They still had the problem of finding a replacement for her though.

“I don’t know what she was thinking,” Dean said, “But I’m glad that I’m not gonna see that bitch.”

“Yeah, but who can we have as a replacement? We can’t call on anyone on such a short notice,” Chuck said.

“I have an idea, but you’re gonna hate it. Charlie, Kev, come over here!”

**x.x.x.x**

_January 22, 2019, 10:24 AM, New York_

“It’s fine with me,” Nezumi said, “But I leave at the second week of March—”

“You can play Ruby’s role until we find a replacement,” Charlie said, “We can’t let this rehearsal day go to waste. The actors have different schedules, and every rehearsal day we have is precious. So maybe just act so we can get going? I’ve been told you’re skilful in playing male _and_ female roles.”

Nezumi’d been itching to act since he arrived in New York, and here was the opportunity, knocking at his door. It was true that it was not his problem if they couldn’t find a replacement, and he really couldn’t be bothered with that.

“Okay. Fine. I’ll do it,” Nezumi said, “But it’s not my problem if you can’t find a replacement.”

Charlie hugged him. “You’re a life saver, Nezumi!”

**x.x.x.x**

Twenty minutes into making his decision and the actors were praising him. They were astounded as to how Nezumi could change his voice effortlessly, and Chuck knew that he made the right decision by agreeing with Dean. He had finally given the intern the chance to shine and show off his talent, and from the looks of it, Nezumi would indeed go far and achieve great heights. He felt that his plans for the 25th might go to waste, because his main goal for that night was to give Nezumi the chance to display his arsenal, but here was Nezumi, wearing a long, wavy, dark wig, and performing the sultry Ruby’s role excellently.

(Dark-haired Ruby’s first appearance in the fourth volume originally had her in her underwear in a motel room with Sam. But since Nezumi’s just the proxy, and this isn’t a dress rehearsal, costumes—except the wig—weren’t necessary. And no, he was not going to kiss Sam. Sam vehemently refused to do that, even if Nezumi was all about professionalism. They could do a stage kiss, after all. There’s also Sam and Ruby’s love-making scene later on, but they’re _not_ going to include that in the stage play.)

**xxx---xxx---xxx---xxx**

_January 22, 2019, 12:03 AM, New York_

“Dean seems happy,” Nezumi commented between bites of his Chinese takeaway.                                                                                                             

“Of course he would be,” Charlie said, “You know that angel who saves Dean from hell? That angel is based on Cas, Dean’s husband. They were childhood friends, but they didn’t get together until they were in third year in uni. They have a really cute love story too, but Dean would behead me if I tell you.”

From what he’d been told, the infamous Dr. Castiel Novak (Castiel Winchester legally) wouldn’t arrive until 1 PM because he had a surgery to perform that morning. He’d heard a lot of things about him; he’s the brother of Gabriel, has four more siblings, a distant relative of Chuck, and has a perpetual five o’clock shadow (“Oh my god please don’t let Dean get started about his stubble,” Kevin said, “I don’t need another brain bleach.”)

When Castiel arrived, wearing a tan trench coat and an ill-fitting suit. Charlie immediately ran up to him and hugged him, and Castiel gave a hug back. Nezumi saw Dean walk to Castiel, and could hear them teasing and flirting. It reminded him of his dynamics with Shion. Dean and Castiel exchanged a relaxed, flirty, and harsh (but without bite) banter, just like him and Shion.

He was on the other side of the Pacific Ocean, but Shion still followed him.

**xxx---xxx---xxx---xxx**

_January 25, 2019, 6:58PM, New York_

The mystery as to where Chuck would bring them on the night of January 25th had finally been revealed. However, even if Chuck was the executive producer, his words were only absolute during the rehearsals, and not after it. The end result was only Nezumi, Chuck, and Charlie went, because Kevin had cello practice, Dean had an interview with a magazine, and Sam had to review case files.

“Really, Chuck, really?” Charlie said, “Balth’s café? I’ve been here a couple of time before with Gilda.”

“I don’t care if you and your girlfriend have been here before,” Chuck said, “Tonight, Nezumi is the star.”

Nezumi still didn’t have a clue as to what this place was. Instead, he just ate the nachos that Chuck bought for them.

It was one of those hippie-like café-slash-bars where customers can sit on the floor as they eat. A lone microphone stood on a platform, and after a few minutes, someone approached the mic and spoke.

“Good evening, poets,” the man said in a British accent, “My name is Balthazar, and I’ll be your host for tonight.”

And suddenly, Nezumi knew what this was and where this was going.

“Chuck,” he said, “Don’t tell me that you’re going to make me read a poem in front of this audience.”

“Of course I would,” Chuck said, “It’s why I brought you here. And see that emcee? That’s Balthazar Novak, Gabe and Cas’ cousin. He owns the café, but the sweets here are provided by Gabe. I wanted to give you a chance to show off your skills, but that unexpected thing with Ruby happened, so you had the chance to showcase your talent earlier than expected. It’s not exactly acting, but I always see you reading books, so...”

“So you think that having me recite poems will give the Impala crew a peek in my delivery of lines?” Nezumi said.

“Yeah,” Chuck said, losing his earlier confidence, “It’s a bad idea, isn’t it? I’m sorry.”

“It’s not that,” Nezumi said, “Poetry slam requires you to read your own works, and while I love reading poetry, and I’m not actually a poet.”

“Oh,” Chuck said, “Oh. I see. Well. This is a waste of time then.”

“Why don’t you just write a poem on the spot?” Charlie suggested, “Maybe a stanza made up of four lines would suffice. Or a haiku, since you’re Japanese and all.”

 _This couldn’t be a good idea,_ Nezumi thought. He wanted to decline, but just then, Shion sent him a message; a picture of the mice, and another picture of the dogs that he washed earlier, and he felt his heart squeeze.

Yes, he had read hundreds of books and poetries, but when it came to expressing his feelings, he got tongue-tied and all the words he knew escaped his vocabulary. No words strung together could be ever more than enough to describe how much he loved Shion.

“I could try to write something,” Nezumi said, “But it can never illustrate how I really feel.”

Somehow, Charlie and Chuck got the feeling that he’s referring to something else entirely.

Still, the night wasn’t a total bust. Nezumi got to meet Balthazar, who gave them free food and booze. (Thinking about last Friday’s event, Nezumi didn’t drink much.) Chuck and Charlie were gossiping about their co-workers, like that time when Castiel told a couple of kids at the mall that Santa wasn’t real because he was “just a historical figure,” and how Dean appeased the parents of those kids. Then Chuck told him the story about Becky Rosen, his crazy ex-girlfriend, who broke up with him because she was obsessed with Sam (Sam, predictably, turned her down, and they never saw her again). Charlie claimed that she saw Becky selling the Supernatural novels online. She also told them how she and Gilda met at a LARPing event.

“LARP?” Nezumi asked.

“Oh god, not again,” Chuck said, facepalming.

“Don’t listen to him,” Charlie said, “LARP, or Live Action Role Play, is role-playing in _real life_. You get to wear costumes and go to actual castles and other fantastic places! It’s kinda like acting, I suppose.

“Anyway, I was the Queen of Moondoor, Sam and Cas were knights, and Dean was my handmaiden. We heard that someone was kidnapped, so we investigated, and it turns out that the one who was kidnapped was the princess of the faery realm, Gilda, who, a few months later, would become my girlfriend.

“And now it’s your turn, Nezumi. Give us some juicy bits about your love life!”

Nezumi really hated divulging details of his personal life with people, but he was feeling pretty buzzed, so he told them what happened that one time at the uni cafe.

“It was lunch time and the café was packed. Shion had classes so I had to eat alone. And then I spotted an empty seat, so I asked the lady sitting opposite that seat if it’s vacant. And you know what she told me? ‘Sorry, but I have a boyfriend.’ I just wanted to fucking sit and eat. So I told her, ‘Great, I have a boyfriend too. Now, can I sit?’ The look on her face was hilarious! I couldn’t tell if she thought that I was lying or something. Oh boy. It was funny as hell.”

“Nezumi, you are _evil_!” Charlie laughed.

“I often get told that,” he replied.

And when Nezumi woke up with a hangover the next morning, he vowed to never drink again. Shion just laughed at him from his laptop.

 

 

**XXIX.**

_February 14, 2019, 5:00 PM, Tokyo_

“It should be any minute now,” Ayumi said through her Detective Boys badge, “Are you ready?”

Genta and Mitsuhiko enthusiastically said ‘Yeah!’ from her badge, while Conan and Haibara sounded like they’d rather do anything but this.

“I can see him now,” Ayumi said, “Operation begin!”

The students from the classroom were steadily flowing out, and Ayumi had to run to catch Shion. “Shion-oniichan, Shion-oniichan!” she called.

“Ayumi-chan?” Shion said upon noticing her. He was surprised, because why would a kid be inside the university premises? “What are you doing here?”

“Just follow me,” she said, and tugged Shion to where her friends were.

**x.x.x.x**

Shion didn’t know what was going on. One moment he was on his way to the library, and the next moment he was being led by a kid through the hallways to an unknown destination.

Then, Ayumi stopped. It was at that part of the campus with trees scattered around where students could study, sit, or just hang out under them.

“Here, Shion-oniichan,” she said, and took him to a particular tree.

From behind that tree, Mitsuhiko emerged with a bouquet of purple asters, and Genta came out with a box of chocolates. Conan and Haibara stood on a corner, looking pained about being there.

“...What is this all about?” Shion asked.

“Please accept this, Shion-oniisan,” Mitsuhiko said, “Come on Genta, give the chocolates to him!”

“I really wanted to eat these chocolates,” Genta said, “But here, Onii-san. They’re for you.”

“For me?” Shion asked, taking the bouquet and box of chocolates, “From whom?”

“Nezumi-oniichan!” Ayumi said, “He messaged us and told us what to do, so we followed his instructions to surprise you!”

“Nezumi did?” Shion asked.

“Here,” Haibara said, holding out a sealed envelope, “He told us to give this to you. He sent that from New York, just so you know.”

Shion stared at the bouquet, chocolates, and envelope in his hands. He still couldn’t fully comprehend what was happening, so he opened the envelope and read what was inside.

 _Happy Valentine’s Day, Shion_ , it read, _I’ll be home next month. I love you. –Nezumi_

He talked to Nezumi that morning. He greeted him with a Happy Valentine’s Day, and told him that he was sorry he couldn’t make him anything because he was in another continent. Nezumi said that it was fine and he could handle a year without receiving chocolates, but Shion still felt guilty. The thought of sending him something crossed his mind, but he didn’t want to send him something impersonal such as store-bought chocolates.

But Nezumi still managed to give him something. He was away in another country, and he still managed to surprise Shion. The chocolates, according to Ayumi, “were made by Kou-oneechan. Nezumi-oniichan asked her if she could make you honmei choco this year because he couldn’t!”

Kou had given him giri choco earlier that day. When he went to lunch, Safu had given him chocolates as well. A couple of his female classmates also gave him giri choco. Surprisingly, a few women gave him honmei choco, but he turned them all down.

So what if the chocolates weren’t made by Nezumi himself? Like what they say, ‘it’s the thought that counts.’

“Ran-oneechan helped us pick the flowers,” Ayumi added, “Nezumi-oniichan said that it had to be purple asters no matter what. She also wants me to give this to you,” she said, giving Shion chocolates, “The three of them are from Ran-oneechan, Sonoko-oneechan, and Sera-oneechan. The fourth one is from me.”

Shion crouched down and patted Ayumi’s head. “Thank you, Ayumi-chan. Not just for these chocolates, but for the effort you’ve spent to give me Nezumi’s presents.”

He then turned to the rest of the Detective Boys. “Thank you too, Genta-kun, Mitsuhiko-kun, Conan-kun, and Ai-chan. I really appreciate the effort.”

“Tch,” Genta muttered, “Conan and Haibara didn’t do anything...”

Shion simply laughed, and reminded himself to send a message of thanks to Kou.

**xxx---xxx---xxx---xxx**

_February 14, 2019, 6:09 PM, Tokyo // February 14, 2019, 8:09 AM, New York_

“You surprised me,” Shion said, “That was completely unexpected.”

“That’s the whole point of surprises, idiot,” Nezumi said from Shion’s laptop, “However, I can’t guarantee how the chocolates will taste. Kou made them, after all.”

“They taste fine as always. Though I couldn’t understand why you asked her when you could have asked Safu.”

“Hey, Safu and I may have made up, but she’s still my competitor.”

“Still with the competition thing? Don’t you think it’s time you moved on from that?”

“Shut up and let me see you holding the flowers. Ran-san sent me a photo of the bouquet she bought, but I don’t know if you’ll like them.”

“I loved them plenty. Thank you,” Shion said, grinning and holding up the bouquet for Nezumi to see, “Ahh, my boyfriend from New York surprised me this Valentine’s Day! These gifts are more than enough. What more could I ask for?”

“Stop that.”

“He’s been dubbed as a bad boy by people who have a crush on him, yet he still does cheesy things for me. I guess that it’s really true that every delinquent has a soft side!”

“Shion,” Nezumi said warningly.

“I know, I know,” Shion replied, laughing, “I’m sorry. I’m just trying to compensate because I didn’t get you anything.”

“I already told you that I’m fine not receiving anything. You still have White Day after all. And what part of that is compensating?”

“I just miss you, I guess...”

“You guess?”

“I miss you. I may sound clingy because you’ve been only gone a little over a month, but it’s hard coming home without you waiting for me, or knowing that you won’t come home after I do. I’ve been so used to a life with you that it has become so hard without you here. But I’m really proud of you, Nezumi. I know that I’ve said this a thousand times before. You’re having fun, you got to act even if just as a proxy, and you’re living a good life. I’m happy because you’re happy.”

“Well, I’m happy because you’re happy too. You’re gonna ace that defence. And I miss you terribly.”

“I have an overwhelming desire to kiss you right now.”

“I have an overwhelming desire to strip you naked right now.”

Shion snickered. “Does the Skype sex offer still stand?”

Nezumi grinned and removed his shirt. He leaned back, giving Shion a full view of his bare chest. “Go on, then. I still have time before I go to the theatre.”

Shion’s eyes darkened. He smirked, and began taking off his clothes.

 

 

**XXX.**

_February 23, 2019, 7:12 AM, New York_

It all started on February 19th, when Nezumi was at the New York Public Library reading a book before heading to the theatre. He was minding his own business when Charlie sat down opposite him.

“Morning, Nezumi,” she said, “You’re up early.”

“I could say the same,” he replied, mildy puzzled, “But what are you doing here?”

“I used your phone to track your whereabouts because I need you to do me a favour.”

“Wha—you tracked me? How?” Nezumi, being the private person that he is, couldn’t help but be offended.

“You know that I’m a hacker, right? And never mind that. I need you to say yes to what I’m gonna ask you because it will save my ass.”

“I don’t understand what’s going on.”

“You know Jo, Ellen’s daughter?”

Nezumi nodded.

“Well, she’s supposed to come with me today for this gig, but she backed out on the last minute because she suddenly remembered that she had to turn in an essay which she hasn’t done yet. And that’s not a flimsy excuse, in case you’re wondering, because Jo did this gig a couple of times before.”

“What is this gig supposed to be?”

“I need you to become a model.”

“Model? Me? Why?”

“Because none of my female friends are available on such a short notice! The shoot’s gonna be this Saturday and they all have plans for the weekend! You were a beautiful Ruby, you’re androgynous, and you’re my last resort so please please please, just come with me.”

“Calm down,” he said, and gestured in a manner that aimed to pacify Charlie, “Why are you so stressed about it?”

“Because the photographer is on a deadline and she’ll _slaughter_ me if I delay her shoot! Not to mention that Dean will grill me about it.”

“Dean? What does Dean have to do with this?”

“The photographer is Claire Novak, Cas’ adopted daughter. If her shoot gets delayed, her editors will give her an earful. Then she’ll rant about it to Dean, and Dean will bug me about it. I love Dean, but he really gets a wee bit overprotective when it comes to Claire. If ‘wee bit’ means ‘completely’. So, do you understand my predicament now? You’ll have to agree. There’s a small commission, too. Please agree.”

As far as money goes, Nezumi has saved up quite a bit from the weekly allowance that MTC and the uni gave him. But Charlie looked so stressed, and if Dean learned that Nezumi played a part in Claire being scolded by her higher-ups because he rejected Charlie’s plea... Well, Nezumi didn’t want that happen. Dean could and would kick his ass if that happened because he was extremely handy with guns and fistfights. Nezumi was, too, but there was no way that he’d win against the son of an ex-marine.

“Fine,” he said.

Suddenly, Nezumi thought about how many situations he had unwillingly gotten himself into since coming to New York.

**x.x.x.x**

What Charlie failed to tell him was that the shoot was going to be in Central Park. Sure, Central Park was beautiful, and the blanket of snow that dyed everything white was a charming sight (that he took a photo of and sent to Shion), but he was _freezing_. Never mind that it was so fucking early in the morning.

Another thing that Charlie forgot to tell him—which he wanted to berate himself for not asking—was that the theme was snow faeries, which required him to wear a dress made of silk and gossamer, and was definitely not suited for the outdoors during winter.

“I can’t believe that you’re a guy,” Claire said as she snapped photos, “Charlie told me that you’re a believable crossdresser, and she sent photos to prove it, but you’re much more beautiful in person.”

“Hold up. Charlie sent photos? When did that happen?”

Charlie ignored his statement by saying, “Hey, I think you guys should take a break. Here, have some coffee.”

“Just a few more minutes, Charlie,” Claire said, “The lighting is magnificent at this time of the day. Nezumi, turn a bit to your side— _that’s it_.”

Nezumi will never forget the feeling of the snow melting through the thin material of his dress. Yes, he may look like a “legit faery that I would bang,” according to Charlie, and “My editors are not going to believe that you’re biologically male,” according to Claire, but he’s freezing his ass off.  Literally. He may look serene and calm at the photos, but the people who will see those photos wouldn’t have the slightest idea of how uncomfortable he was.

“I’ve been told that these photos are for your university magazine,” Nezumi said, striking another pose, “But what kind of magazine, exactly?”

“Not really a magazine, but a portfolio. We publish a magazine every two months, and a portfolio every year. I’m going to give you a copy once it comes out in April.”

“Don’t you think that a winter theme is not apt for an issue that comes out in April?”

“Humans are suckers for beauty. They wouldn’t mind.”

And Nezumi really looked beautiful. He knew that he looked good, and he was not afraid to use it to his advantage. Claire did his make-up, and he wore an icy blue dress that billowed when the wind blew, a waist-long wig, almost the same colour as his hair, and thin faery wings that looked like icicles protruding from his back. He even took a selfie captioned _teaser for today’s activities_ , to which Shion replied, _NEZUMI YOU’RE SO BEAUTIFUL I LOVE YOUUUUU_. Nezumi replied with _control your boner, your majesty_ , and Shion said, _I don’t have boner. I’m simply awed by such an extraordinary sight_.

Claire even told him that they should do more shoots so Nezumi could build a portfolio and send it to modelling agencies, but Nezumi said that he was an actor and not a model. Claire replied that there were plenty of actors doubling as models and vice versa, so she didn’t see any reason why Nezumi couldn’t be one.

“I want to focus on acting,” Nezumi said, “And can we please hurry up? I’m freezing.”

**x.x.x.x**

Later that day, after the shoot had been finished, Claire sent him post-processed softcopies of her handpicked photos that she’d send to her editors, which he then sent to Shion.

 **February 23, 2019, 6:23 PM**  
**To:** airhead  
**Message:** [4 attachments]

 **February 23, 2019, 6:31 PM**  
**From:** airhead  
**Message:** AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH YOU’RE SO BEAUTIFUL THE SELFIE WAS MORE THAN ENOUGH THESE ARE TOO MUCH

 **February 23, 2019, 6:31 PM**  
**From:** airhead  
**Message:** MY MUM WOULD LOVE THESE

 **February 23, 2019, 6:32 PM**  
**To:** airhead  
**Message:** WHO SAID ANYTHING ABOUT YOUR MAMA SEEING THEM

 **February 23, 2019, 6:34 PM**  
**To:** airhead  
**Message:** DAMMIT SHION DON’T LET KARAN SEE THEM

 **February 23, 2019, 6:35 PM**  
**To:** airhead  
**Message:** SHION

 **February 23, 2019, 6:35 PM**  
**To:** airhead  
**Message:** HEY SHION ANSWER ME YOU DICKHEAD

 **February 23, 2019, 6:42 PM**  
**From:** airhead  
**Message:** Mum said: “Ahhh, Nezumi-kun is so beautiful! He’s much prettier than me. That’s so unfair!”

 **February 23, 2019, 6:44 PM**  
**To:** airhead  
**Message:** FUCK YOU SHION

 **February 23, 2019, 6:45 PM**  
**From:** airhead  
**Message:** Will you be wearing that dress when you fuck me? ;)

 **February 23, 2019, 6:46 PM**  
**To:** airhead  
**Message:** FORGET IT ASSHOLE

 **February 23, 2019, 6:47 PM**  
**From:** airhead  
**Message:** I love you too :* ♥♥♥ and stop being such a drama queen. Mum already saw you in drag during your plays. What’s the big deal?

 **February 23, 2019, 6:48 PM**  
**To:** airhead  
**Message:** GO TO HELL

 **February 23, 2019, 6:48PM**  
**From:** airhead  
**Message:** ♥♥♥ :***

 

 

**XXXI.**

_March 12, 2019, 2:35 PM, Tokyo // March 12, 2019, 4:34 AM, New York_

This was Nezumi’s exact instructions three days ago: “Your defence should be done by around 4 or 5 AM here. Don’t fucking worry about waking me up; I want you to call me and tell me the result, which, I’m sure, is that you passed your defence with flying colours. Call me, okay? I love you. Break a leg.”

And as per Nezumi’s instructions (or threat, really), the first thing he did upon exiting the room where he defended his thesis was call Nezumi.

“Good morning,” Shion said over the phone.

“Good afternoon,” Nezumi replied sleepily, “So? How was it? Did you get a perfect score like I predicted?”

“You overestimate me.”

“Just tell me how it went.”

“I passed. With minor corrections!” Shion gleefully said, “But the corrections were mostly typographical, so it’s going to be an easy fix. I did it, Nezumi, I did it! I’m going to graduate next month!”

If Nezumi was there with him right at that moment, he’d hug him. Shion would come out of the room and fling himself towards Nezumi, and Nezumi would hold him tightly. And then he’d take out his Polaroid and take a photo of that important moment, and pin the photo to the corkboard in their library.

But Nezumi wasn’t there. Instead, he asked his classmate to take a photo of him in formal attire, holding a hardbound copy of his thesis.

However, Nezumi returns next week, and just the mere thought was more than enough.

“Congratulations, Your Highness,” Nezumi said gently, “I believe that a celebration is in order.”

“Weeeeeeell,” Shion said, “It seems that our friends have too much trust in me. They already prepared a party at Inukashi’s...”

“Figures. I guess we’ll have to do our own celebration when we get back.”

“And what might the activities be?”

“Oh, _this_ and _that_.”

Shion laughed. “How’s your internship narrative going?”

“Eh, I’ll do it later.”

“Nezumi!” Shion said. He sounded so scandalised that people from around him looked at him. He kept his voice down and said, “You can’t graduate without that! What about our plan of graduating together? Did you just throw it away?”

“Stop being a drama queen, Shion.”

“ _You_ are the drama queen.”

“I’m just kidding. Of course I’m doing my narrative. I may be a ‘delinquent,’ but I don’t forget to do important school work.”

Shion sighed in relief. “You asshole! You scared me for a moment. The end is so near and the thought of you neglecting your studies frightened me.”

Nezumi laughed. “I’m sorry, ha ha!”

“I don’t know why I put up with you,” Shion said, “And oh, Safu passed hers too, with minor corrections.”

“Like I didn’t expect that.”

“Nezumi...”

“Hmm?”

“If you were here right now, you’d give me a kiss.”

“My, my, do I sense a tinge of loneliness from His Highness?”

“I can’t help it. You were always with me during momentous times.”

“Hush now. I’ll be back next week. Then I can give you a searing kiss.”

“I can hardly wait.”

**xxx---xxx---xxx---xxx**

_March 12, 2019, 5:21 PM, Tokyo_

“Congratulations to Shion-kun and Safu-chan!” Kou said as she popped the party poppers.

“Thank you,” Shion and Safu said.

The dogs barked, as if congratulating them, too.

“The two of you have worked very hard,” Inukashi said, “You deserve it.”

“Thanks, Inukashi,” replied Safu.

Shion said that it was a ‘party’, but it was not a party at all. The only ones present were Shion, Safu, Kou, Inukashi, and Rikiga. Kou wanted to invite her friends (presumably her friends from Iwatobi), but they were all busy with work or their studies.

“As expected of Karan’s son,” Rikiga said, “Tell me, Shion, what kind of wine do you want? I have close to a hundred of of expensive and delicious wines in my cellar. Tell me. Don’t be shy. The two of you deserve something good.”

“I think I’ll pass, Rikiga-san,” Shion said.

“I’ll pass too, but thanks for the offer,” Safu said.

“So,” Kou said, “How did Nezumi-kun react?”

“Just a mention of Eve’s name soured my mood,” Rikiga said, “I’m going home. Congratulations again, Shion, Safu. And if there’s anything you need—anything at all—don’t hesitate to tell me.”

“Thank you, Rikiga-san,” Shion and Safu left, and Rikiga left. Usually, even if Nezumi was mentioned, Rikiga would still stay, but Inukashi mentioned that he had some ‘business’ to attend to, business that they were afraid was something that they knew all too well.

Shion told them that Nezumi was happy for him, and that even if he didn’t say it, he’s happy for Safu too. Safu scoffed at that.

“Oh, Nezumi-kun’s returning next week, right?” Kou said, “We should plan a party!”

“If you’re going to throw a party, don’t do it at my place,” Inukashi said.

“Then we can just hold it at their flat as usual,” Kou said, “What do you think, Shion-kun?”

“I think we should celebrate on graduation day instead. Safu, you, and I, are graduating next month, and if I’m not mistaken, Rei-kun and Nagisa-kun graduate next month, too, right? And Nitori-kun, too, if I’m not mistaken.You also told me that Rin-san and Sousuke-san will come home, so we’ll just have to do one massive party then.”

Kou, eyes gleaming, held his hands. “You’re right, Shion-kun. Now, let’s plan!”

**xxx---xxx---xxx---xxx**

**Omake**

_March 12, 2019, 10:47 AM, New York_

“Someone seems to be in a good mood,” Charlie said when they went on a break, “Got some last night?”

“How is that possible? He’s in another continent,” Nezumi retorted.

“You know what I mean, smart ass. There’s Skype and all,” Charlie said with a wink.

“It’s not that,” he said, “Shion passed his thesis defence.”

“Oh my glob, that’s good news!” she said, clapping his shoulders, “Say congratulations to him for me, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said.

The most important person to him in this world just passed a humongous hurdle, so of course he’d be grinning all day.

Now, it’s his turn to overcome one last thing. All he needs to do is finish his internship, wrap up that narrative, and hello graduation.

 

 

**XXXII.**

_March 15, 2019, 7:32 AM, New York_

Dean woke up to the smell of eggs, bacon, and coffee. He got up from his bed, grabbed his boxers from the floor, and went to their kitchen.

“Morning, Babe,” he said, hugging Castiel from behind and kissing his neck.

“Good morning, Dean,” Castiel said, “Would you set the plates?”

Dean stayed a little while longer before taking the plates out of the cabinet.

“Is the food for later ready?” Castiel asked, setting the food on the table.

“Yeah,” Dean answered, “Still not as good as Mum’s or Ellen’s, but good enough.”

“I’m going to miss him. He’s a good kid.”

“He is. And he’s going places.”

“He just needs to cut back on the sarcasm.”

“Hey! I’m sarcastic, but I still got places.”

“Only because you have a pretty face.”

“He’s quite the looker too. In case he comes back to New York, I think I can put in a few good words for him.”

“You’re a good man, Dean.”

“Aw, don’t get mushy on me. I know talent when I see it.”

“Let him hear that later.”

**xxx---xxx---xxx---xxx**

_March 15, 2019, 8:03 AM, New York_

“No, Dean and Cas are in charge of pies. Of course they are. You hear pie, Dean will always follow. Claire’s gonna bring the paper plates and stuff, just in case the Roadhouse runs out of plates and utensils. Kevin will bring the pasta, Chuck will bring soda, and Garth will bring soufflé,” Charlie said to the phone sandwiched between her ear and shoulder, “Just make sure that those chicken strips are good.”

“They are. Mum gave the recipe to Jess,” Sam said over the phone, “Have you talked to Ellen?”

“Yeah, she’ll start grilling this noon.”

“How are the cookies?”

“They’re coming along nicely. He said that his boyfriend’s mum, who owns a bakery, makes the best baked goods, so I doubt that it’ll be as good as hers, but my cookies are hella good.”

“Whose idea was it to bring cookies to a party?”

“It was my awesome idea, thanks.”

“Oh, right, ha ha. I’ll see you later, Charlie.”

“See ya later, Sam!”

**xxx---xxx---xxx---xxx**

_March 15, 2019, 7:04 PM, New York_

Nezumi’s last day as an intern in the Manhattan Theatre Club was bittersweet. He met a lot of good people who treated him well, he got to act even as a proxy (the replacement actress for Ruby’s role came in a week later), he had a brief stint as a model, got drunk, and had an overall good time, especially with the people of the Impala Productions.

As far as learnings went, he learned the basics of operating a theatre house from Chuck. Charlie also taught him some things about directing, and since he tagged along with Kevin a lot, he could say that he could now be an efficient stage manager.

Craft-wise, he couldn’t say that he improved a lot. He was a proxy actor for only a week, which meant that he barely got to act. However, performing with professionals bolstered his confidence, especially whenever he got critiques and not mere compliments from them.

He wrote down all the tips and tricks he learned in his journal. Sometimes, he’d stare at the photos inside that journal. Sometimes, he’d absentmindedly play with the mice phone charm dangling from his phone. Sometimes, he’d remove the ring from his finger and gaze at the named engraved inside it.

Today, his internship would end.

Tomorrow, he’d pack his things up and tie up all loose ends.

And two days from now, he’d be able to hold the man he loves in his arms.

But for now, the crew of the Impala Productions were taking him to a “secret location” for a “send-off party” because “you deserve it, and we’ll miss you a lot!”

**x.x.x.x**

The secret location turned out to be The Roadhouse. _Secret my ass_ , Nezumi thought. He was ushered to the centremost stool in front of the bar where Dean presented him with an apple pie.

“Pie is better than cake,” Dean said, “And here’s your celebratory pie.”

Charlie put a party hat on him. Kevin popped out party cracker after party cracker. Ash purposely shook a beer can and opened it, sending beer flying all over the place. Ellen brought out the tastier-than-heaven burgers. Garth gave everyone a soufflé while mourning someone named Clara Oswald. Nezumi didn’t understand what the deal was with this Clara person, but Charlie cried along with him while she gave cookies to everyone. Chuck turned the jukebox on, Sam invited his wife Jess for a dance, and Castiel all but dragged Claire to the dance floor.

“This pie is pretty good,” Nezumi commented.

“Here’s your burger,” Jo said, “And if you think that that pie is delicious, wait ‘til you taste the pie that Dean’s mum makes.”

“I heard that, Joanna Beth!” Dean said from where he was dancing out on the dance floor with Charlie, “But it’s true, though!”

It was a fun night. He drank two cans of beer and that was it; no more alcohol for the night. He was forced into taking selfies with them, which he acquiesced to because _this might be the last time that I’ll see them_. He took selfies of him having fun and sent them to Shion. He was so fucking excited to see Shion after two and a half months, and finally, two days from now, he would be, but he also admitted that MTC, especially the Impala Productions, would be missed.

Sometime during the night, he was forced to sing. The whole Roadhouse applauded, and Claire said, “You could be one of those people who have a lot of slashes in their jobs. You know, actor-slash-model-slash-singer.”

“You’ve got the looks, the voice, and the talent,” Kevin said, “The gene pool is so fucking unfair.”

Nezumi sang more songs. Dean joined in too. And then everyone was singing, laughing, dancing, talking.

“You’ve got to come back,” Chuck said, “See the opening night, maybe. When’s your graduation?”

“April 9th,” Nezumi answered.

“And the opening night is on April 18th. You think you can come? You can see the play and tour the US. There’s more to the States than New York, after all.”

“I don’t know. I’ll see what I can do. We still haven’t decided where to plan a trip after graduation.”

“Just know that we will always welcome you with open arms.”

“Thank you, Chuck.”

It’s more than just a thank you for Chuck’s invitation. It’s also thanks for everything that Chuck had done for him—the tips, seminars, night out at Balthazar’s café, everything. And he hoped that Chuck got that.

“You’re welcome,” he said, and from the way Chuck nodded, Nezumi was certain that Chuck understood what he meant.

**x.x.x.x**

A tipsy Kevin hugged Nezumi. “I’m gonna miss you man,” he said, “You’re the damned best production assistant I’ve ever had.”

“Thank you for being so nice to me,” Garth said giving him a cringe-worthy hug.

Dean gave him a one-armed hug. “I hope to work with you in the future, Nezumi. And if you ever want some help in the industry, you have my calling card.”

“Call me if you ever get in trouble whenever you’re in the US,” Sam said, also giving him a one-armed hug, “But I hope that you don’t get into trouble.”

Claire hugged him. “Thank you for being my model a few weeks ago. If you can’t come to the opening night, I’ll just send you a copy of the portfolio, okay? Keep in touch, Eve!”

Charlie hugged him the tightest. “You’re my favourite PA,” Charlie said, “I hope we can work on more projects in the future. Visit us sometime. Promise me that.”

“I promise,” Nezumi said. It was not an empty promise. He hoped to return to New York someday, possibly on the opening night, and give Shion a tour to the city that has been so kind to him. Life had been kind to him lately. He got accolades left and right from his classmates, professors, and co-workers. He secured an internship at the Manhattan Theatre Club. He didn’t have to worry about expenses because the uni paid for him. He has a job at the bookstore-slash-DVD rental store back in Tokyo.

And most of all, he had Shion, and he was more than enough.

**xxx---xxx---xxx---xxx**

**Omake**

_Humans of New York posted on March 16, 2018, 8:02 AM:_

[a medium close-up of a man with his long, dark hair tied back, grey eyes directed somewhere away from the camera]

“I just finished my internship at a theatre. My co-workers gave me a send-off party. I guess I’ll miss them. But I miss my significant other more, whom I haven’t seen in two and a half months. I can’t wait to go back to Japan, and go home to him.”

 

 

**XXXIII.**

_March 17, 2019, 9:14 PM, Tokyo_

Nezumi spent the whole day yesterday packing his things up. He received messages from the Impala guys about how he had his photo in the famous Humans of New York Facebook page, which he ignored because he didn’t want to be reminded of that guy who asked to take his photo. (He was buzzed and feeling sentimental, okay.) He bought so many books that he had to use another luggage, which required him to pay an extra fee at the airport. (There were just too many _Supernatural_ books. Chuck is really a prolific writer, even if he complained all the time about how “writing is hard.”) (And no, he visited Victoria’s Secret only once and just brought one bag home containing a dress.) He also bought some make-up for himself, Karan, and even Safu and Kou. There were also the generic souvenirs like fridge magnets, food, shirts, and mugs for their friends. He even bought their mice a new bed. Then there were the things that the Impala Productions crew made him take, like a notebook filled with dedications for him, DVDs, booklets from the MTC, a booklet of recipes from Dean, and an Impala Productions shirt.

He got Shion a shitton of Polaroid films. Shion had been complaining the other day that he only had five films left, so Nezumi ordered a bunch online as soon as their call ended. It was hella expensive and almost took all of his savings, but it would make Shion happy.

**x.x.x.x**

The crew wanted to see him to the airport, but Nezumi insisted that they shouldn’t bother.

“You all have work to do,” he said, “And you already had a send-off for me the other night. Don’t bother seeing me off at the airport.”

He said goodbye to his flat. He wouldn’t miss it. He wanted to come back to their flat in Tokyo. He wanted to come back to Shion.

Maybe, he’d miss the streets of New York. He’d most likely miss the Impala Productions, the New York Public Library, his favourite spot in the Starbucks across the street.

But now, all he wanted was to go home, so he boarded the plane and dozed off until he was in Tokyo.

**xxx---xxx---xxx---xxx**

“NEZUMIIIIIIIII!” Shion shouted, running towards him and enclosing him in a bear hug.

“Shion...” he muttered, barely containing his glee. He caught Shion, and they spun around because of the momentum. They were laughing, crying, hugging, kissing, having an overflow of emotions for finally having each other in their arms after two and a half months.

“I missed you so much,” Shion said in the crook of Nezumi’s neck.

“I missed you, too,” Nezumi said, kissing Shion’s forehead.

This was all Nezumi had wanted—to hold Shion’s hands, their rings a silent reminder of the invisible red string binding them; to see the way the strands of their hair contrasted with each other’s; and most of all, and the only thing that really matters: gazing into his beloved’s red eyes, and seeing those eyes look at him with so much love.

When he left all those years ago, there wasn’t a single day when he didn’t think of Shion. Guilt niggled into his subconscious every minute, fraying the edges of the wall he built around himself. And then he couldn’t take it anymore; he contemplated if he made the right decision leaving him behind, so he came back, and the walls crumbled the moment their lips touched for the first time.

But this time, it was a stark contrast from their reunion that night. He left with the knowledge that he’d be returning shortly, and even if they were separated, there was love travelling from one laptop to another.

“Welcome home,” Shion said, cradling the other’s face in his hands.

Nezumi leaned in to the touch. “I’m home.”

**xxx---xxx---xxx---xxx**

_March 17, 2019, 11:23 PM_

His hands wandered all over Shion’s body, eager to reacquaint themselves with the flesh and skin that they hadn’t touched for almost three months. Every moan of the white-haired man fuelled him, every demand urged him to go _deeper, harder_ , every time Shion touched him with his hands and lips ignited a trail of fire burning his body.

“Best White Day present ever,” Nezumi whispered into Shion’s ear, earning him a giggle from him, which later transformed into pleas and moans.

**x.x.x.x**

“It was hard doing it with just my right hand,” Shion said. As per their usual post-coital activities (which always included pillow talk and cuddling), he laid his head on Nezumi’s chest, tracing pattern-less figures on his sweaty chest. “I missed having you on top of me.”

Nezumi ran his hands through Shion’s sweat-slicked hair, chuckling. “It’s flattering to know that His Highness craved the carnal pleasure that I so frequently provided him.”

“Get off you high horse. I know that you masturbated more than me.”

“My, my, were you keeping track of how many times you’ve pleasured yourself?”

“It’s not like I did it every day. Only when I missed you and it became unbearable. So instead of curling up on my side and sniffing your shirt—it’s not creepy, thank you—I masturbated instead. Less miserable, don’t you think?”

Nezumi kissed Shion’s forehead. “Well, I’m here now. Handjobs and mutual wanking are a thing again.”

Shion kissed his nose. “I know. That’s why I’m glad you’re back.”

“Aw, you only want me for the sex?”

“Yes, I only want you for the sex.”

“That’s cruel. And to think that I thought we had something special for the past seven years...”

Shion giggled. “I love you more than anything else in this world.”

“Don’t get sappy on me.”

“Come on, say it back.”

“Alright. So needy.”

Shion smacked his head playfully.

“I love you more than Narcissus loves himself.”

“That’s not romantic at all.”

“What would you prefer that I say, that I love you more than Romeo and Juliet love each other?”

“That’s not romantic either.”

“Do I need to stand outside on a rainy evening and profess my undying love for you?”

“I can work with that.”

“I love you, Shion,” he said, kissing the ring on his finger, “You taught me how to truly love, how to live in the present, and how to laugh genuinely. I can thank you with a million kisses, but those will never be enough.

“I love you,” Nezumi said, punctuating each word with a kiss, “And I want to be with you until the sun no longer burns, and the moon no longer illuminates the light of the dying sun.”

Shion was half laughing, half crying. “Sorry I’m not a poet,” he said, “But you know how much I love you, right?”

“Yes, I know. It’s in the way you save hot water for me in the mornings. It’s in the way you make me tea or coffee when I’m falling asleep in the middle of practicing lines, when you leave those cheesy notes between the pages of my scripts, when you leave food for the mice, when you wear my shirts as if they’re yours. It’s in those little things you do for me, Shion, and those little things are more than enough to express that you feel the same way I feel for you.”

“I wish was recording this.”

“I’ll take all my words back if you are.”

“No you won’t.”

“...I probably wouldn’t.”

“We should go to sleep. We have dogs to wash tomorrow.”

“Mood killer.”

“Goodnight to you, too.”

**xxx---xxx---xxx---xxx**

_March 18, 2019, 6:12 PM_

Classes ended on March 15th, and all that was left for Nezumi to do was submit his internship narrative to the Drama Department. He ran into Kanata Irie, the top 1 in their class (who relinquished his privilege to intern at MTC because he had to train for a tennis competition. He interned at a local theatre instead), who was also on his way to submit his narrative.

They also ran into Ciel Phantomhive, the top 3, Professor Michaelis’ secret paramour (but not-so-secret, really, because almost the entire class and drama department knew it, even if some didn’t agree about the professor-student relationship) submitting his narrative. He did his internship in his hometown, London, with Professor Michaelis going on a leave to be with him.

Their classmates were also on their way to submit theirs. They asked him and Phantomhive a lot of questions about their internship abroad, and Nezumi and Phantomhive, ever the asocial beings, gave succinct answers and dodged some more inquiries.

Professor Midford said that she didn’t need to question the students because the only thing that she’d have to do is read their narratives. They breathed a sigh of relief, and went on their own ways.

Still, Shion dragged Nezumi to Inukashi’s shelter, to which the dogs barked excitedly upon seeing him. Kou hugged him, Inukashi told him to _go rot in a rat hole and die_ , Safu engaged him in a competition to see who could wash the most dogs, and Rikiga wanted to write a feature story about him because _Eve, you might make it big in the industry, and I will be your springboard_! Nezumi declined the interview.

So now, he was back at his job while Shion read to the kids. Ayumi, whom he sent photos of pretty sights in New York, hugged him and gave him those mouse-shaped biscuits that he loved. He also thanked the Detective Boys for their help during Valentine’s Day.

Kitamura, the high school student who confessed to him some months ago, still comes to the bookstore. “I see that you’re back, Nezumi-san,” she said as Nezumi rang up her order, “Shion-san is visibly happier now that you’re here.”

Nezumi smiled. “Of course he is.”

 

 

**XXXIV.**

_April 9, 2019, 3:21 PM_

The cherry blossoms descending to the ground was a very fitting way to send them off. The ceremony was done, the university’s president Isana Yashiro gave his speech, the class representatives gave their classmates their diplomas, and it was _all done_.

Nezumi went to say farewell to the Literature Club. There was also a gaggle of women (and some men) saying goodbye to him. Professor Sutcliff was, as usual, making suggestive remarks to his favourites (e.g., Nezumi, Professor Michaelis, Mr. William T. Spears), and Nezumi, repulsed as usual, ran away after saying goodbye to his classmates.

Shion, after saying goodbye to his classmates and professors, went to their favourite spot in the uni: a particular cherry tree in the garden.

Nezumi would be waiting for him.

**x.x.x.x**

“Hey,” Shion greeted.

“Hey,” Nezumi replied, charming boyish grin plastered on his face. He had his diploma tucked under his arm, while his hands where inside his pockets.

“Have you said your goodbyes to your classmates?” Nezumi said, walking closer to him.

“Yeah,” Shion replied, “Have you?”

“Of course,” he answered.

“We’ve graduated from uni, Nezumi. I can’t believe it.”

Nezumi placed his hand on the small of Shion’s back. He looked around and said, “Thanks for the memories even though they weren’t so great.”

Shion, lost to the reference, said, “What, you didn’t enjoy your time here? I loved my time here in the uni.”

“That’s not what I mean. What I’m trying to say is that I’m not going to miss this place, and I only enjoyed it because you’re here with me.”

“Sap.”

“Says the one who takes hipster photos with his hipster camera.”

“Polaroid is not hipster,” Shion said, “And speaking of Polaroids, we should take a photo of us holding our diplomas.”

Nezumi rolled his eyes. He knew that this was coming. Nevertheless, he held his diploma up proudly, Shion doing the same. Shion pressed the shutter, and a photo of them grinning in their _hakama_ and holding diplomas came out.

Surely, this was going to be pinned to their corkboard.

Afterwards, they took individual photos of each other. Nezumi reminded him to “save some film for the party tomorrow,” to which Shion replied, “I still have plenty. Remember those films that you got me from New York?”

Nezumi didn’t want to think about the party tomorrow. He didn’t want to think about Karan coming tomorrow, or about how Rikiga would hit on her again, or how Karan would refuse him with a laugh. He didn’t want to think about Nagisa hosting a karaoke face-off, or Rei complaining about how things weren’t beautiful, or about how Nitori and Momo are scared of the mice. He didn’t want to think about Makoto’s more-than-obvious desire to propose to the dense Haru, or how Haru, despite not noticing Makoto’s plea, clearly wants to do the same. He didn’t want to think about Rin eating all of Karan’s muffins, or how Sousuke would reprimand him, despite having finished an entire tray of Karan’s cheese rolls.

He didn’t want to think about what will happen later, tomorrow, or their vacation in New York during the opening night of _Supernatural_. All he wanted to do was wrap his arms around Shion and kiss him senseless.

So he does.

They’ve come a long way. They’ve been together for seven years now—eight in September 2019—and they still hadn’t gotten tired of kissing each other, or looking into each other’s eyes, or waking up in bed together.

They might have finished their studies, but as their professors warned them, the real world would ‘fuck them up’ if they were not prepared.

But they have each other’s support. They have their friends, and no matter how hard life can—will—get, they know that they will survive. Together.

And this moment, Nezumi decided, with Shion happy in his arms, and him happy for having the other so close to him, was more than enough.

 

 

  ** _fin_ **

 

 

  **Epilogue**

_Humans of New York posted on April 18, 2019, 11:47 PM_

[A dark-haired man, with his long hair tied into a ponytail, kissing the temple of a white-haired man. The former had his left arm curled around the latter’s waist. The latter was smiling, albeit looking a bit embarrassed.]

The caption read:

“We just watched the theatre adaptation of the _Supernatural_ novels by Carver Edlund. This guy with me interned at MTC for two and half months, and was assigned to the Impala Productions, the crew that produced Supernatural. Recently, we graduated from uni, and decided to spend the holiday in New York to catch up with the crew. I thanked them personally. They have been so kind to him.”

“I was on my own in this city for quite some time. I’m glad that he’s with me now. And I have travelled to hundreds of places, but my favourite place is by his side. He’s more than enough for me.”

“More than enough?”

“More than enough.”

 

 

**_fin (for real)_ **

**Author's Note:**

> [1] I got this recipe by Googling ‘fancy recipe names’ or something along those lines.
> 
> [2]I don’t have problems shipping an older person and a younger and/or underage person (as long as it’s consensual), but I had to make changes to include Ciel in the story. His appearance remains to be that of a 13-year old, though :3
> 
> [3]I wrote Nezumi’s statement based on this: “With his very first words, “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times” (and there perhaps no better known opening or closing lines in all of literature)…”. That passage was written by Marjorie Housepian Dobkin in the afterword of my copy of A Tale of Two Cities (ISBN 0-89577-179-9). I just had to include that bit because I somehow agree; while I don’t think that is the most “better known” opening lines, I won’t deny that it is a really good one. Also, remind me to finish reading that book because I only read the first few pages, haha. 
> 
> [4]This is a [Dancing Groot Funko Pop](http://funko.com/products/pop-marvel-guardians-of-the-galaxy-dancing-groot). I have a tiny collection of these figures. It’s an addicting (and expensive) hobby. Once you pop, you can never stop!
> 
> [5]This character is the only OC in this fic. I didn’t pull her out from another series. And I am deeply sorry for creating her just so she could be a plot device. (But ‘plot device’ is stretching it because I didn’t involve her in anything plotty at all ;u;)
> 
> [6]As far as I know, Usami-sensei hadn’t written a book with this title. I completely made this up.
> 
> [7] _Romeo and Juliet_ , Act II Scene II
> 
> [8] _Henry V_ , Act V Scene II
> 
> [9]I have never been to New York (or Tokyo, for that matter). I relied on Google (Maps and image search) to provide the imagery. I also had to cook up other (geographical) things.
> 
> [10]Every information that I have on Manhattan Theatre Club is something that I gleaned from their website, particularly the [Internship part of the site](http://www.manhattantheatreclub.com/education/internships/). Of course, there are some (minor) things that I had to invent for lack of information available and accessible to me.
> 
> [11]This is what I’m talking about with making up information. If you want accurate information about the MTC, please go to their website. Do not rely on this fanfic, though I think that that should go without saying XD
> 
>  
> 
>  **A/N:** If you made it this far, thank you! If you didn't, thank you anyway. I feel bad for not writing a proper No. 6 fanfic (if you can even call this proper) because I treasure this series, and Nezumi and Shion are important to me. I felt like I had to make a proper tribute for this series, and I'm glad that I finally did. I just wanted to see the two of them live a happy life, where everything is rainbows and sunshines and they're always together. These two have been through so much, and I wanted to give them the good, normal life together that they'll never have, unless Asano-sensei writes more.
> 
> Anyway, I really hate the ending. I rewrote it so many times, but I couldn't get it right. I settled with the one that didn't annoy me as much as its previous versions. And I have a love-hate relationship with this fic. I love this because I slaved away for 20 odd days to finish this, but I also hate it because it turned out to be horrible. It's like those fanfics that I didn't like, and I hate myself for writing something of the same quality as those fics. Then again, I never wrote anything good. Still, this is a special piece for me because it was my WriMo 2015 entry, and it was my first (and maybe last) time joining NaNoWriMo. This is also the longest piece of story that I have ever written, which is really isn't that impressive because 50k words aren't really that long to read (in my case) xD
> 
> So, dear reader, thank you for reading this, and putting up with this fic. Please review if you have time. Comments on how I can improve give me life. Thank you.


End file.
